Alpha Red
by dalex.allen
Summary: A series of fics all related to each other. Called Alpha Red because that was the title of the first fic I wrote, which is the second chapter of this. Rated M for sexual content in some chapters and major character deaths.
1. First Time

Derek was nervous.

Although he was 98% sure Stiles liked him back, it was that 2% that freaked him out. He'd been watching Stiles ever since he'd met him. Now, as he waited on the school roof, he kept thinking about all the ways his plan wouldn't work.

He'd laid out a blanket for them to sit on. He'd texted Stiles about an hour ago to meet him on the roof as soon as he could, to strategize. Of course, that wasn't what was going to happen, if things went Derek's way.

His wolf hearing picked up Stiles' voice from a few feet away. so he listened.

"I'm just going to get something off the roof," Stiles was saying.

"What could you possibly need?" That voice was the lacrosse coach, Finstock.

Stiles sighed. "Someone threw something up there and I need to get it back."

"Threw what?"

"My mom's wedding ring. She died when I was younger and I carry it around with me but someone stole it and threw it on the roof. Can I please just go get it?"

There was silence for a minute. Stiles' heart was pounding from lying.

"Alright, Stilinski. Just don't tell anyone I let you up there."

While Stiles was climbing up, Derek used his wolf sight to find a random ring a few feet from him, which he pocketed to help Stiles lie.

"Derek," Stiles said when he got on the roof. He saw the blanket and looked confused for a minute.

"We'll be here a bit, I just didn't want to sit on the rocks."

Stiles nodded, joining Derek on the blanket.

"Oh, here's this, by the way," Derek said, handing Stiles the ring. "I heard your lie and thought it would help if you actually left with a ring."

"Oh, thanks, man," Stiles said, pocketing the ring. "So what did you need to talk about?"

"Well," Derek said. "We all know Scott isn't the sharpest knife in the drawer. But it seems like everything is up to him, so we might as well help strategize."

"Why did we have to do it up here?"

"I didn't want anyone to overhear, and from here I can see for a few hundred yards."

Stiles' phone suddenly went off with a text message. While he was looking at his phone, Derek was looking at him. His heart did a funny jump in his chest whenever he was allowed to just _look_ at Stiles. He hadn't felt this way about anyone in a long time.

"Sorry, that was Scott," Stiles said, putting his phone back in his pocket. He looked up and noticed Derek looking at him. "Are you okay?"

Derek leaned forward and kissed him, putting one hand on his neck and the other on his thigh. Stiles was shocked for a minute but quickly regained composure, leaning into the kiss. After a few minutes, Derek pulled away, knowing he was blushing but not caring.

"Wow," Stiles said. "That was…unexpected."

"I didn't ask you to come here to strategize," Derek said, glancing down at Stiles' crotch which was now bulging slightly. Stiles followed his gaze and blushed fiercely.

"Stiles, I…I really like you," Derek said.

Stiles giggled. "I like you too, sour wolf."

Derek kissed him again, this time pushing him on his back and climbing on top of him. It felt so amazing to finally touch him like this. Using one hand to support himself, he ran his other hand along Stiles' skinny body, pausing at his hips. Stiles reached up and started tugging at Derek's jacket, which Derek happily took off. He then took off his shirt, allowing Stiles to touch his chest, which Stiles seemed to enjoy.

Stiles took off his own shirt. Derek leaned forward and licked Stiles' neck, then kissed down his chest until he reached the edge of Stiles' jeans. Derek grinned, kissing his hipbones and yanking the jeans down. Stiles was flushed, watching the wolf as he pulled down his underwear.

"Impressive," Derek said. Stiles' erection was standing straight in the air; Derek guessed he was about seven inches long. Stiles was seemingly too turned on to respond.

Derek smiled again, licking Stiles' shaft from the base to the tip. Stiles moaned loudly, his head falling back on the blanket. Derek took him in his mouth, working his tongue over the head and swallowing the precome leaking from the tip. Stiles was still moaning, his hands grabbing the blanket so hard that his knuckles were turning white.

"Derek, Jesus," he moaned. "If you don't stop…I'm gonna come."

"Okay," Derek said, pulling away completely.

"That isn't what I meant…OH GOD." Derek had licked him again, only this time he also pressed a finger against Stiles' entrance. "Derek, Derek, wait." Derek pulled his hand away. "I've never…I've never had sex with anyone before."

Derek moved up and kissed his mouth, kicking off his own jeans and underwear at the same time. "That's okay, Stiles," he said. "I'll make sure it doesn't hurt too much. Unless you don't want to?"

"No, God, I want to, I do, just…" Stiles was panting. "I'm scared. How bad is it gonna hurt?"

Derek kissed him again, pushing his finger inside and moving it around. Stiles pulled back from this kiss, a strange look on his face.

"Talk to me, Stiles," Derek said. "How does it feel?"

Stiles pursed his lips as Derek continued to explore. "Weird. But also…a bit good?"

"Okay," Derek said. "How about now?" He put a second finger in.

"Oh, ow, that hurts a bit," Stiles said, closing his eyes. Derek stopped moving until Stiles nodded. Then he moved around, making a scissoring motion with his fingers. Stiles was so damn tight. There was no way this wouldn't hurt him. Derek added a third finger.

"Derek, no, stop a minute," Stiles said, his whole body clenching.

"Relax, Stiles," Derek said, kissing his neck, his jawbone, his mouth. "I won't hurt you. Do you trust me?"

Stiles stared into the wolf's eyes for a few seconds, then smiled and nodded.

"Then all you have to do is relax. I know it's tough, I know it hurts, but relax. Okay?"

Stiles nodded again. Derek moved his fingers around some more, knowing he had to find Stiles' prostate soon or Stiles might not want to continue. He tried to remember how to reach it, when—

"OH DEAR JESUS DEREK!" Stiles yelled, arching his back. "WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?"

"Your prostate," Derek said, brushing it again. "You might want to keep it down, though. Your coach thinks you're looking for a ring."

Derek pulled his fingers out, spat on his hand, and used his saliva to lubricate himself.

"Pretty impressive yourself," Stiles said when he saw Derek's erection.

"Just shut up," Derek said, kissing him hard as he pressed into Stiles. The smaller man gasped into the wolf's mouth. He was so incredibly tight. It took Derek a few minutes to be fully engulfed in Stiles' warmth.

"Okay, it's okay," Derek whispered in Stiles' ear. The smaller man's face was screwed up in pain. Derek was stroking his hair, mumbling words of comfort in his ear. It was only out of concern for Stiles that he didn't immediately start thrusting; he wanted to, but he also wanted Stiles to enjoy this.

"Okay," Stiles said after a moment. "Okay, you can move."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Yes, I want this."

Derek kissed him, pulling back slightly and pushing in a bit harder than before. Stiles let out a groan of pleasure and pain. God, he was so tight. Derek wasn't sure how long he'd be able to hold out. He continued moving, trying to hit Stiles' prostate.

"How does it feel now?" he asked, running a hand down Stiles' chest and starting to stroke his half-hard dick.

"It's…I don't know. I mean, I like what you're doing with your hand. That's good." He closed his eyes while Derek thrust into him, timing his strokes with his thrusts. "That's very good, actually."

Derek moved slightly faster, feeling his orgasm approaching and wanting Stiles to come first. Stiles was moaning again, his muscles clenching around Derek in a way that made it almost impossible to hold back.

"Stiles, how close are you?" Derek asked.

"So fucking close," Stiles said quietly.

Derek pumped his hips as fast as he could, still stroking Stiles, and leaned down to suck on his neck. Stiles groaned Derek's name, arching his back and clenching his muscles as he came. No longer able to hold back, Derek thrust forward one more time before grunting and shooting inside Stiles.

They stayed together for a moment before Derek pulled out and reached for the hankerchief he'd put in his jacket pocket. He carefully wiped Stiles' chest clean before handing him clothes. They dressed in silence.

"Derek," Stiles said when he was fully dressed, "did you know that your eyes turn red when you come?"

Derek looked at him. "Really?"

"Yeah. Like you're about to shift, or something. It's actually kind of hot."

Derek laughed, sitting cross-legged on the blanket. Stiles tried to sit next to him, but flinched.

"Here," Derek said, pulling him onto his lap. "That'll hurt for a bit."

"Derek, are we…what are we?" Stiles asked, eyes drooping slightly in exhaustion.

Derek thought for a second. "We can be boyfriends, if you like."

Stiles closed his eyes, resting his head against Derek's shoulder. "Boyfriends. That sounds good."

Derek put his arm around Stiles, kissing the side of his head. He held him like that for a few moments before remembering Finstock.

"Stiles, I hate to say this, but you have to go."

"What? Why?"

"You're looking for a ring."

Stiles laughed, taking the ring from his pocket and tossing it over his shoulder. "It's a big roof, and a small ring. It'll take me a while."

Derek laughed too, laying Stiles on the blanket and curling up next to him. He watched his new boyfriend as he slept.


	2. Alpha Red

Derek's eyes turned Alpha red whenever he had an orgasm.

Although he couldn't be sure, considering Derek was the only werewolf he'd slept with, Stiles assumed it was the same for all wolves. And since he didn't like to think about his best friend having sex, he ignored the rest and focused on Derek alone.

The two had slept together quite a few times. Each time, Derek topped. Each time, Stiles was surprised by his partner's self control. And each time, Derek's eyes turned red as he came inside the smaller man.

And nothing turned Stiles on more.

No other part of Derek's body shifted during sex, not even his teeth, which was strange because Derek wasn't shy about shifting in front of Stiles. Derek was also very loving and caring towards his partner in bed, making sure there was no pain. Other than those few changes, Derek's sex persona was very similar to his regular persona; he was very quiet and extremely intense and serious. Being an Alpha, he was also very dominating. Stiles didn't mind.

One day, though, Stiles wanted to switch things up. So while they were undressing, he decided to bring it up.

"Derek," he said shyly. Derek looked at him with concern. "I was wondering if you'd want to try something different."

"Like what?"

Stiles shifted uncomfortably. "You know, just something. I completely understand if you don't want to, it's just an idea—"

"Stiles, just spit it out."

"I wanted you to, you know, be submissive."

Derek was silent; Stiles couldn't read his expression. He didn't often like to think about why they were together; he was afraid that if he overthought it, he'd ruin it. Just when Stiles started to think he'd overstepped the bounds of their relationship, Derek spoke: "How submissive?"

Stiles smiled in relief. "I want to be top." Derek nodded, as if that wasn't a big concession. "Also…I want you to…I mean, it's totally your choice, it's just an idea—"

"Oh my God, Stiles, just say it."

"Iwanttotieyouup," Stiles said quickly.

Derek laughed. "I could break out of any rope you could possibly use. Without even shifting."

"I didn't mean I want to _imprison_ you. Just…you know what, forget it. It was a dumb idea."

Derek sighed. "I didn't mean that, Stiles. You meant tying me up to…assert your dominance or something?" Stiles nodded. "Sure. Let's try it."

"R-really?" Stiles said. "That's…thanks! I've got handcuffs in my desk drawer, I don't know if we need any lube—"

Derek stepped forward and kissed him, effectively shutting him up. Normally, Derek would take control at this point, but he was holding back, and Stiles enjoyed feeling the power shift to him. So Derek really wanted to do this. Stiles pushed him onto the bed, climbing on top of him and running his hands down the wolf's warm body. He felt Derek's erection pressing against his leg.

"Get up and take off your jacket and shirt," Stiles said, climbing off to retrieve the handcuffs. "Leave your pants on."

Derek complied, suddenly standing shirtless and waiting for instruction from Stiles.

"Lay down on the bed." Derek did as he was told, which was very hot to watch. "Put your hands over your head so I can restrain you."

Once Derek was handcuffed to the headboard, Stiles started kissing him. He kissed his mouth, then his neck, then down his chest until he was at the edge of Derek's jeans. He smirked up at the wolf and began to unbutton the pants. He pulled them down slowly, relishing in torturing Derek. Before removing Derek's underwear, Stiles decided to do a sexy strip show for him; it didn't work. His shirt got stuck on his head and he tripped when he tried to step out of his jeans. Derek was trying (and failing) not to laugh. Cursing silently, Stiles took off his underwear, climbed back on Derek, and removed Derek's underwear.

Stiles kissed Derek's neck as he rubbed their erections together. Derek broke the kiss, leaning his head back and panting. Stiles grinned and repeated the action. Derek closed his eyes and moaned.

"Damn, that's hot," Stiles whispered, kissing back down Derek's torso until he reached the wolf's hips. Stiles kissed his hipbones and the inside of his thighs, breathing lightly on his erection. Derek groaned each time he felt Stiles' warm breath on his sensitive skin. Suddenly, Stiles licked Derek's shaft, eliciting a loud groan from the wolf. They'd been naked all of two minutes and Derek had already been more vocal than an entire session normally.

Stiles took Derek into his mouth, realizing as he did it that he had never given Derek a blow job before. Judging by Derek's reactions, Stiles thought Derek had never _recieved_ a blow job before. He was panting and his whole body was moving around, making it difficult to not choke or bite.

"Lay completely still," Stiles said. "Or I stop. Okay?"

Derek groaned but nodded, staring at the ceiling with an intensity Stiles had never seen. Stiles continued sucking, noticing Derek's hands balled into fists in an attempt to stop moving. After a few moments, Derek started grunting, a precursor to his orgasm. Stiles pulled back.

"If you come now, will you be able to come again in a few minutes?"

"With how hot this is, definitely."

Stiles grinned, taking Derek in his mouth again. It didn't take long until Derek moaned and filled Stiles' mouth. Stiles tried to swallow everything Derek gave him, but it was tough. When the stream stopped, Stiles moved up the bed and kissed his partner, hoping the wolf could taste himself in Stiles' mouth.

"We're not done, though," Stiles said, sucking on his fingers and rubbing Derek's entrance.

"Oh, my God," Derek groaned. Stiles slipped one finger inside, then a second and a third, enjoying the tight heat.

"Derek," he said, removing his fingers, "how slow should I go?"

"You don't have to be slow at all."

"But I don't want to hurt you."

"I am a werewolf, I can handle it." Derek's voice was impatient.

"No, Derek, I wouldn't want—"

"Oh my God, Stiles, just DO IT!"

Stiles raised an eyebrow. "I don't think it's your place to make demands, Derek Hale."

Derek sighed. "I'm sorry, Stiles, I didn't mean to sound so demanding, I just want you so bad."

Stiles bit his lip. Hearing Derek say that almost made him come, but he held back, wanting to punish the wolf. "I will go very slowly, not because you'll be hurt but to punish you. Also…you can't come until I say. Alright?"

Derek nodded, closing his eyes in pleasure as Stiles pushed in a few centimeters. It felt amazing, no wonder Derek liked to top. Stiles pushed forward slightly, relishing in the tightness. It took him over five minutes to get all the way inside, and it was well worth it. He pulled back and thrust in, eliciting another moan from Derek. Angling his hips, Stiles pushed into what he hoped was Derek's prostate; Derek groaned loudly in response, arching his back.

Stiles leaned forward and kissed Derek, thrusting harder into the wolf. Derek's eyes were starting to tinge red.

"Remember, you can't come until I tell you, or you'll be in big trouble."

Derek gulped, looking into Stiles' eyes. Stiles saw not only passion, but something else. Was it love? Better not overthink it. So he started thrusting faster, grabbing Derek's erection and stroking it in time with his thrusts. Derek was rock hard, and more red was filling his eyes. Deciding to stop torturing him, Stiles kissed his neck and whispered in his ear, "Now."

"OH GOD STILES!" Derek roared as his eyes suddenly turned red. He arched his back into the smaller man, covering both of their chests with his hot seed. Stiles barely noticed Derek's teeth sharpening as he yelled out in pleasure and emptied himself into the wolf's hot body. Then he collapsed on Derek's chest, both of them panting.

After a moment, Derek kissed the side of Stiles' head and tugged at the handcuffs to break their hold. He carefully lifted Stiles off of him and laid him on the bed, covering him with a blanket. He then went to the desk and grabbed the keys, unlocking the now-ruined handcuffs.

"Just throw them away," Stiles said, his tiredness creeping into his voice.

Derek nodded, throwing them into the trash can that was overflowing with random bits of paper. Then he crawled into bed next to Stiles, put an arm around him, and fell asleep.

So yeah, it might have been love in his eyes. But, Stiles thought, maybe that wasn't so bad.


	3. You're All I Have

"I think I'm going to tell my dad about us," Stiles said, resting his head on Derek's shoulder. As was tradition, they were cuddling under a blanket after sex. The Sheriff was on duty tonight, so Stiles and Derek were enjoying having the house to themselves.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Derek asked, body stiffening. He seemed afraid.

"Yeah. I mean, he's my dad, right? He's got the right to know."

Derek untangled himself from Stiles and got up, starting to get dressed.

"Hey, where are you going?"

"I don't want to be around when this happens," Derek said. "Your father carries a gun for a living."

"Yeah, and you're a werewolf. It won't hurt."

"I don't want to heal in front of him right after he finds out I'm sleeping with his son!" Derek pulled on his shirt and started looking around for his shoes. "When should he be home?"

Stiles looked at the clock on his bedside table. "Ten minutes or so."

"Well, have fun with that." Derek kissed Stiles and headed for the window.

"Wait! Derek!" But Derek was gone. Stiles sighed, wandering around his room to gather his clothes. He didn't realize until he tried to put it on that Derek had ripped his shirt when he took it off. That was the third shirt this month that Derek had ruined. Stiles had rather liked this one, too. Oh, well.

"Stiles!" the Sheriff shouted from downstairs. "Come down here, please!"

Stiles grabbed another shirt from his dresser, put it on, and went downstairs.

"What's up, Dad?"

"I thought I told you to clean the kitchen while I was gone."

Stiles looked at the sink, which still had a large piles of dishes. He had completely forgotten about his chores when Derek came over.

"I assume you spent the time in your room," the Sheriff said. "On your computer."

"What gives you that idea?"

"That is not the shirt you were wearing when I left."

Stiles looked down at his chest, realizing he had switched from a green shirt to a red one. "Right. About that shirt…it's kind of ruined now."

"Stiles, I've gotten those stains out before—"

"No, Dad, it was ripped off." The Sheriff looked at him, confused. "Dad, there's something I need to tell you."

A look of concern came across the Sheriff's face. "Is everything okay?"

"Dad…I'm kind of…dating someone."

"Someone who rips your shirt off? Must be a pretty strong girl. What's her name?"

Stiles looked at the ground. "Derek."

The Sheriff was silent. Stiles glanced up at him; he couldn't read his father's expression.

"Derek Hale?" the Sheriff asked. Stiles nodded. "As in, the boy you accused of murder a few months ago?" Stiles nodded. The Sheriff didn't say anything.

"Dad, it's not…it's not a big deal—"

"It is too a big deal, Stiles, you accused this guy of murder and now you're…God, what are you doing with him? He ripped your shirt off!"

Stiles was still looking at the floor. "It was an accident, Dad—"

The Sheriff sighed, sitting at the breakfast bar. "Stiles, I don't want you to be with him."

Stiles looked up at his father. "Dad, that's not fair!"

"I don't know if you remember, but you accused him of _murder_, Stiles. He's weird and creepy and…wait a minute. Your shirt was ripped off. And you didn't clean the kitchen. God, Stiles, you were having sex with him in _my house_ while I was gone?"

Stiles felt heat rise into his face. "Yes."

The Sheriff groaned, putting his face in his hands.

"Look, Dad, he isn't as weird as you think. He's really sweet and I really care about him—"

"While you're under my roof, Stiles, you will follow my rules. No Derek. Period."

"Dad! Please, just let him come over so you can meet him, he's really nice and he's even afraid of you, please!"

The Sheriff stood up, taking a step towards his son. "End of discussion. Go to your room."

"Dad, I'm going to be with him whether you're okay with it or not—"

"No, you will not, Stiles. You're grounded. Now go to your room."

Stiles let out a barking laugh, trying to stop the tears from coming. "Being grounded won't stop me, Dad. If you won't let me date him while I'm living here, then fine. I'll find somewhere else to live."

Stiles immediately regretted saying that. The Sheriff took a deep breath, staring at his son. "You don't mean that."

Stiles looked at the floor again. "I want to be with him, Dad. I…I love him."

The Sheriff rubbed his forehead. "No. Not while you're living here."

Stiles nodded, running upstairs and shoving some clothes in his backpack. The Sheriff followed him.

"You don't have to leave, Stiles," he said, leaning against the doorway. He looked close to tears.

"You said I can't be with him while I'm here," Stiles said, trying to shove a pair of jeans into the backpack. Tears were falling down his face. "I'm choosing him."

"Stiles, please don't leave me."

Stiles put the backpack over one shoulder and pushed past his father.

"Stiles, no! Come on, this is killing me. Don't go."

Stiles had a flashback of Lydia's party, of seeing his father accuse him of killing his mother. A fresh flood of tears poured down his cheeks. Tonight was the first time Stiles had said he loved Derek, and it wasn't even to Derek's face. Did he really love Derek more than his own father? It was too late to turn back now. Living here meant not being with Derek.

"STILES!" the Sheriff shouted. "I give up! You can be with him, just please, don't leave. You're all I have."

Stiles paused at the top step. No, he didn't love Derek more than his dad. How could he? He turned back and ran to hug his father, both of them crying. When they broke apart, Stiles wiped his face and started to unpack his clothes.

"I'm gonna get a drink," the Sheriff said. "Want anything?"

Stiles shook his head; his father left. Suddenly, Derek was back in his room, pulling him into an almost bone-crushing hug, stroking his hair, and whispering in his ear, "Shh, it's okay, everything's fine now." Stiles broke down again, staining Derek's dark shirt with his tears. When he finally calmed down, Derek sat him in the computer chair and knelt in front of him.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked. Stiles shook his head. "Okay. I should go. I'll see you tomorrow." He got up and went towards the window. Just as he was about to climb out, he turned back. "Oh, and Stiles?"

Stiles looked up at him. "What?"

Derek smiled, blushing slightly. "I love you, too."


	4. Comfort in the Night

It had been a long night. Now, Gerard was dead, Jackson was no longer a kanima, and Scott had renounced Derek as his Alpha.

It took Stiles five or ten minutes to convince Derek to come home with him afterwards. Derek seemed to think Stiles wanted sex; he really just wanted to hang out. Derek was quiet the entire drive to Stiles' house. As it was so late, the Sheriff was already asleep, so they carefully climbed the stairs to Stiles' room and closed the door.

Derek immediately kicked off his shoes and tossed his jacket on the computer chair, laying on the bed facing away from Stiles.

"Derek," Stiles said, sitting next to him. "Do you want to talk?"

"No," the wolf grumbled.

Stiles sighed, laying down next to Derek and putting a hand on his arm. Derek twisted so that Stiles' hand fell off.

"Derek, what's wrong?"

"Nothing." Derek slid off the bed and sat on the floor, knees to his chest. Stiles moved closer to him, kissing the top of his head and rubbing his shoulders. Derek leaned his head back, his eyes closed.

"I'm here for you, if you need me," Stiles whispered in his ear. He was slightly uncomfortable, lying on his stomach with his arms hanging off the edge, but that didn't matter. Derek opened his eyes, looking at Stiles.

"You know, it shouldn't bother me this much that Scott doesn't want to be in my pack," he said, leaning his head against Stiles' arm. "I just…I need him. He's loyal and strong and can be pretty smart sometimes."

"Like tonight," Stiles said, drawing circles on Derek's chest with his fingers.

"Exactly." He sighed. "And he needs me. For when he's not smart. Omegas never last long and I can't let him die just because he's stubborn."

"He has good reason to not like you. Like Jackson."

"I didn't know Lydia could save him."

"No, but you told me Peter said she could. And you still wanted to kill him."

Derek untangled himself from Stiles and moved a few inches to the right. "I wanted to kill the kanima."

"He wasn't the kanima when you stabbed him."

"Stiles, stop making me feel bad, okay? He didn't die. It's not a big deal."

Stiles got off the bed and sat next to Derek. He was able to grab his hand, which was a good sign.

"I just…it's tough," Derek said. "Boyd and Erica left and now Isaac is the only pack I have left."

"You've got me."

Derek chuckled. "Stiles, you're human. You don't count."

"Ha, I got you to laugh!"

Derek elbowed him and nuzzled against him. "Thanks, babe."

"For what?"

"You know what, smartass."

"Better to be a smartass than a dumbass."

Derek laughed, kissing him. He pulled Stiles on top of him; Stiles started grinding his hips against the wolf's, both of them getting hard quickly. Derek reached his hands down and undid his jeans, trying to pull them down with Stiles still on top of him. Stiles laughed, stood up, and removed his own jeans while Derek pulled his down. Then the wolf pulled his partner back on top of him, lowering him onto his erection.

"Jesus," Stiles said. "A little preparation would've been nice."

"Shut up," Derek said, kissing him hard and grabbing his hips. They moved together, body rhythms matching. They were so familiar with each other now.

"Shit, Derek," Stiles said as he approached orgasm. "Don't stop."

Derek grabbed Stiles' erection, stroking it as he sucked on his neck. Stiles groaned, hips jumping, coming all over Derek's shirt. Derek thrust upwards a few times before coming himself, moaning Stiles' name. They sat together for a moment before Derek lifted Stiles off and reached for his jeans. When they were both dressed, they lay down on the bed and fell asleep.

The Sheriff heard them but didn't go to investigate until he was sure they were done having sex. He heard the bed creak and their breathing settle to normal before he slowly opened the door, looking at the two boys entangled on the bed. He smiled. Perhaps Derek dating his son wasn't such a bad idea after all.


	5. Awkward

"God, Stiles," Derek moaned, moving his hips in long strokes. "Will you come, already?"

"I'm getting there," Stiles said, reaching down to stroke himself.

"Well would you get there a little faster? I'm so damn close."

"What, do nice guys finish last?" Stiles said, laughing. "I'm a nice guy, too."

Fed up, Derek shifted his hand and lightly ran his claws over Stiles' chest while increasing the speed of his thrusts. The sensations were too much for Stiles, who almost instantly groaned and came all over his chest. Derek grunted Stiles' name and thrust forward once more. Stiles could almost feel Derek shooting inside him, which only increased the intensity of his orgasm.

When they were both finished, Derek pulled out and started to lick Stiles' chest clean. He must love the taste, Stiles thought.

"Stiles, dinner is—OH MY GOD!" The Sheriff had barged into his son's room without knocking, and now covered his eyes to block the naked forms in front of him.

"Jesus, Dad!" Stiles said, reaching for a blanket to cover himself. Derek was already pulling on underwear.

"You know what, I'm not going to ask," the Sheriff said. "Just…get dressed and come down to dinner. You too, Derek."

Derek paused, one leg in his pants. "Really?"

The Sheriff sighed. "After what I've just seen, I might as well consider you part of the family." He left, shaking his head.

"Well, that was sufficiently awkward," Derek said, tossing Stiles' clothes on the bed.

"You're the one who was licking my jizz off my chest."

Derek glared at Stiles. They finished getting dressed and walked downstairs, holding hands on the way.

"Okay, I think this sherry is enough brain bleach," the Sheriff said when they entered the dining room. "So sit."

They boys sat as the Sheriff piled their plates with food. They all ate in silence for a few minutes before the Sheriff spoke.

"So, Derek, what do you do in your spare time?"

Derek shrugged. "I'm…an instructor."

"Oh? What do you teach?"

"An old form of self-defense. It's volunteer work, really."

Stiles winked at Derek, impressed by his lying skills.

"Maybe you should teach it to Stiles," the Sheriff said. "So he doesn't have to worry about rival lacrosse teams anymore."

Derek smiled, but his eyes betrayed him. They'd had this discussion a dozen times; Derek wanted to change Stiles so that he wouldn't have to worry about his fragile, human boyfriend. Stiles still refused to accept the bite.

"So, how long have you been having sex with my son?"

Stiles covered his face with his hands, willing his dad to _shut up_.

"Sheriff, no offense, but I don't think our sex life is your business."

"It is if I keep walking in on it."

"You didn't knock, Dad," Stiles said.

"I shouldn't have to knock. You two shouldn't be…canoodling in this house."

"Canoodling?" Derek said, smiling.

The Sheriff shot a nasty look at Derek. "I went online after Stiles told me about you. It's not…it doesn't look like a very comfortable…I just don't want to think about it."

They were silent for a few bites. Stiles wished Derek had said no to dinner. It wasn't as if his dad was _trying_ to be the most embarassing person on the planet; he just _was_. Stiles glanced at Derek, who didn't seem half as embarassed as himself.

"So which one of you is…you know, the male role?"

"Dad!"

"What? I'm curious!"

Stiles pulled his shirt over his face.

"I am, Sheriff," Derek said. "Most of the time."

"Oh, my God," Stiles said.

"Really?" the Sheriff asked. "Stiles doesn't seem the type who would like…things…up there."

"I can assure you, sir," Derek said, "that he most certainly does."

"Are you in an Embarass Stiles competition?" Stiles burst out. "Cuz you're both winning!"

"No, son, I'm just honestly curious."

"And I don't have a problem talking about our amazing sex life." Derek was grinning.

"I just don't understand how it can feel good," the Sheriff continued.

"The prostate," Derek responded. "It's like a male G-spot."

The Sheriff nodded, seeming to actually find that interesting. Stiles was sinking in his seat, trying to escape. "Can we please stop talking about sex?" he asked.

The other two laughed. Again, there was silence as they ate a few more bites.

"Has he told you his real name?" the Sheriff asked.

"Stiles isn't his real name?" Derek said, looking confusedly at his boyfriend.

"You think I'd name my son Stiles Stilinski?"

"Dad, can you not?" Stiles said. "I wanted to tell him myself. Later."

"Stiles," the Sheriff said, "it's nothing to be ashamed of."

"Yeah, it is," he said. "There's a reason only you and Scott know it."

"When your coach found out, he called it child abuse." The Sheriff laughed. "It was your mom's idea."

"I'm finished eating," Stiles said. "Derek, do you want to go back upstairs?"

Derek nodded, taking one last bite before standing up.

"Just a minute, Derek," the Sheriff said. "I want a word with you."

Stiles stood right outside the dining room, listening in on the conversation.

"What's up, Sheriff?" Derek said. He must hear Stiles' heartbeat and know he was listening in.

"I'm sure he's told you, but his mom died when he was younger," the Sheriff said. "Stiles means the world to me. He's…he's all I have left. And if you hurt him, I swear to God, I will personally cut off your testicles with safety scissors and pour lemon juice on the open wound. Understood?"

"Absolutely," Derek said. He actually sounded scared. Stiles wondered if body parts grew back on wolves. Probably not.

"One more thing." The Sheriff lowered his voice, so that Stiles had to hold his breath to hear. "Stiles is…different. He likes to get in trouble. Take care of him, okay?"

"Absolutely, sir," Derek said again. He joined Stiles in the hall and walked upstairs holding his hand.

"Why did you go along with that?" Stiles asked, sitting in his computer chair.

"I don't get embarassed that easily, and he seemed curious."

"Didn't you see how uncomfortable I was?"

"It was just a bit of fun."

"I love fun, you know that, but not at my expense, alright?"

"Okay, I'm sorry," Derek said, smiling. Stiles shrugged. "I said I'm sorry, Stiles. I didn't know it would bother you that much." Stiles still didn't say anything. Derek sighed, pulling Stiles out of the chair and kissing him. After a minute, he pulled back, looking down at Stiles. "Okay?"

Stiles smiled, nodding. "I just…I don't know. I want our private stuff to be, you know, private. Like, how would you like it if I told Scott about the time I tied you up?"

A dark look crossed Derek's face. "You wouldn't."

"Of course not. But that's how I feel right now."

Derek sighed again, kissing Stiles one last time before leaving through the window. He was back in a few seconds.

"I can probably leave through the front door now," he said. Stiles laughed.


	6. Slow on the Uptake

"Hey, Scott," Stiles said, leaning against Scott's doorway.

"Oh, hey," Scott replied, turning away from his desk where he appeared to be doing homework. "Mom let you in?"

Stiles nodded, stepping into the room and standing over his friend's shoulder. "Math homework?"

"Yeah," Scott said. "This is one of the classes I'm not doing so well in. I'm surprised Mom even let you in."

Stiles shrugged. He looked around Scott's desk and saw an opened box of condoms. "What are those doing here? You're not even with Allison anymore."

Scott laughed. "Yeah, those are my just-in-case condoms. I won't need them, though, you're right. Here, you take them." He gave the box to Stiles.

"No, I've got my own just-in-case box," Stiles said, sitting on the bed with the box. "Besides, I won't need them."

"Don't think like that, man," Scott said, no longer paying attention to his homework. "You'll find someone soon enough. Eventually."

"Actually, that's…that's why I'm here," Stiles said. He took a deep breath. "I'm kind of…dating someone."

"Really? That's awesome, dude! Congratulations! Do I know her?"

Stiles laughed. "Oh, you know them, alright."

"So who is it?" Stiles didn't respond. "Come on, don't make me guess, you know I can't guess stuff like that."

Stiles looked at the ground. "Derek."

"What about Derek?"

"No, Scott, I'm dating Derek. He's…my boyfriend."

Scott furrowed his brow. "Derek Hale?" Stiles nodded. "As in, Alpha Derek?" Stiles nodded again. "Dude, that's…really?"

"Yeah. We've been together a couple of weeks."

Scott leaned back in his seat, looking shocked. "Wow. Completely serious?" Stiles nodded. "I can't believe that."

"Believe it, Scott. We're dating."

Scott was silent for a minute. "So when you say you don't need the condoms, does that mean you two aren't…?"

"Oh, no, we're having sex. There's just no fear of pregnancy."

"Ew. Dude, how?"

"How? Well, there's this wonderful thing called anal sex—"

"No, Stiles, ew, I meant how do you reconcile the fact that he _stabbed Jackson_?"

Stiles sighed. "He wanted to kill the kanima. The monster. He didn't really want to do it when Lydia saved him."

"But he did it anyway."

"Look, Scott…do you still love Allison? Even though she would've killed Derek and Isaac and Boyd and Erica? Even though she was helping Gerard?"

"Of course."

"Exactly. Jackson lived, so let's forget about it."

"So you…you love Derek?"

"Yes, Scott, is that so difficult to imagine? He's an amazing guy. He's really sweet and caring and stop looking at me like that!"

"What? Sorry that I can't imagine a sweet Derek! He's just so…cold and intense."

"Yeah, but he's sweet with me. And he's scared of my dad."

"He's scared of your dad? That's hilarious."

"Well," said a voice from the window, "he _did_ threaten to cut off my testicles."

Scott and Stiles both spun around, noticing Derek standing by the open window.

"Derek," Scott said, seeming to regret what he had said earlier. "Um…hi."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Scott," Derek said, sitting next to Stiles and taking his hand.

"I wasn't trying to insult you," Scott said. "Just…it's hard to believe. I thought_you_ were obsessed with Lydia." He nodded at Stiles.

"Lydia has Jackson. There's no way she'd want to be with me."

"To be fair to Scott, we did start dating before Jackson was cured," Derek said, stroking the back of Stiles' hand with his thumb.

"Scott!" Mrs. McCall shouted from another room in the house.

Derek swore. "Gotta go. Love you." He kissed Stiles quickly and disappeared through the window.

"Scott," Mrs. McCall said, appearing at the doorway. "I think it's time Stiles went home. You need to do your homework."

"Okay," Stiles said, getting up and walking towards the door.

"What's that?" Mrs. McCall was pointing at the box of condoms still in his hand.

Stiles froze, looking from the box to Scott. He quickly looked at the expiration date on the box and handed it back to Scott. "Yeah, they should be fine. They won't expire for a few months. See you later." He ran out to his car, jumping in and buckling before he realized Derek was in the passenger seat.

"JESUS!" he yelled. "Don't do that!"

"You might want to check your tires," Derek said. "I slashed one so I could talk to Scott."

Stiles glared at him for a moment before jumping out. "At least get out of the car to make this easier." Derek got out, hiding behind the car as Stiles started to remove the tire.

"Scott, I know you can hear me," Derek said quietly. Stiles hated when they talked like that. It was like listening to one end of a phone conversation. "I need you to respect me and Stiles still. I know it's weird, but we're together, and we're not splitting up any time soon."

Just then, Mrs. McCall opened the front door. Stiles looked up from where he was jacking up the car.

"Do you need help?" she asked.

"Nah, tire just deflated," Stiles said. "I've been meaning to fix it for a while. I'll just be a minute."

She nodded, going back in the house. Derek continued talking to Scott, but Stiles was no longer listening. He was thinking about Scott's reaction. He wasn't disgusted, as Stiles thought he would be. Just…freaked out. Why? Why wouldn't Scott be okay with it? He finished putting the new tire on and lowered the car, tossing the ruined tire in the back and climbing in the driver's seat.

"Done talking to Scott?" he said as Derek climbed into the shotgun seat.

"Yeah."

"And?" Derek looked at him. "What did you say?"

"You were, like, two feet away from me."

"I hate listening to you talk like that. Just tell me what happened."

"We just talked about us." They were driving back to Stiles' house, although Derek wouldn't accompany him inside. The Sheriff was okay with their relationship, but didn't like spending that much time with Derek.

"Why was he so freaked out?"

"It's weird finding out that your best friend is gay, Stiles."

"I'm not gay." Derek laughed. "No, I mean I'm more bi than gay. I still like girls."

"Stiles, that's not the point. How would you feel if Scott told you he was sleeping with…I don't know…with Isaac?"

Stiles looked at Derek, almost swerving off the road. "Is he?"

"No, of course not, I was just trying to make a point, and pay attention to the road!"

"It wouldn't hurt you, sour wolf," Stiles said.

"No, but it would hurt you." Derek sighed. "You don't realize how…how breakable you are."

Stiles pulled over, stopping the car and looking at him. "Yes, I do. I have to think about it _every damn day_, how you're out there risking your life and there is_nothing I can do_. Okay? So don't say I don't know what's happening. Cuz I get it."

"Stiles," Derek said, but didn't continue.

Stiles started to drive again, not even glancing at Derek anymore. He felt oddly angry at his boyfriend. It wasn't his fault that he was human.

"Stiles," Derek said again after a few minutes of silence. They were pulling into Stiles' driveway. "Can we talk about this?"

"Talk about what? The fact that Scott is freaked out by our relationship? The fact that you want to give me the bite more than you want to be with me?"

"I never said that!"

"No, but you're thinking it."

"No, I'm not, and that's really not fair. I want to give you the bite because I worry about you!"

"Well you don't need to. I've got Scott looking after me too."

"Stiles!" Derek slammed his fist against the dashboard, surprisingly not leaving a dent. "I love you, okay?"

Stiles sighed, leaning back against his seat. "I know. I love you, too."

"Then what is this?"

Stiles shrugged. "I don't know. I just…I don't want the bite. And I don't like feeling like I'm a constant source of angst for you. I know you worry about me and I can't stop that but you don't have to tell me about it all the time. I get that I'm a burden."

"You're not a burden," Derek said. He leaned across the seat and kissed Stiles. "You're the best thing that's happened to me in a long time. I just don't want to lose you."

Stiles smiled, blinking back tears. "Same here, sour wolf." He kissed Derek again before getting out of the car and going inside his house.

"That took a while," the Sheriff said when Stiles came into the kitchen. He looked up. "Oh, no, did you have a fight?"

"A little. But it's okay. I'm going to my room."

"Want to talk?"

"No, Dad. I'm fine. Good night." Stiles went to his room, closed the door, and fell on his bed. It had been a long day.


	7. You're My Everything

"So what exactly do you see in Derek?" Scott asked as they unloaded lacrosse sticks and other equipment from Stiles' Jeep.

"Not again, Scott," Stiles said, putting the box of lacrosse balls on the ground. "We've been over this. Get in the goal."

Scott stood in the middle of the makeshift goal, watching Stiles as he tried to score. Scott caught the ball easliy.

"No wolf powers!"

"That wasn't wolf powers, that was just skill."

Stiles tried throwing a few more balls, all of which Scott caught.

"Okay, fine, you wanted to talk about Derek?"

Scott laughed. "I just wondered what was so redeeming about him."

Stiles leaned against his lacrosse stick. "He laughs at my jokes. He's actually pretty funny. And when he's with me…he treats me like…like a king."

Scott gagged. "Cute overload."

"Seriously, though. He's…the best thing that's happened recently. And he said I'm the best thing that's happened to him ever."

"Is he always so intense?"

Stiles laughed. "Yeah, actually, most of the time. Just, sometimes, when he's tired or upset, he gets snuggly."

"Derek?" Scott said. "Snuggly?"

"Oh yeah." Stiles was aware that Derek would kill him for saying all this. "And he's great in bed."

"Too much info, Stiles!"

"Come on, you told me about your sex life with Allison."

"That's different."

"How?"

"This is Derek we're talking about!"

Stiles shrugged. "He wasn't always a sour wolf. He apparently used to be a really nice guy. Really fun."

"Toss me some more," Scott said. "Your aim's getting better."

They resumed practice for a few minutes before Scott spoke again.

"What does he call you?"

"He calls me Stiles."

"No, don't you have sweetheart names for each other?"

Stiles laughed. "I call him sour wolf, but he doesn't have anything. Actually…he did call me 'babe' once. But that was…we don't talk about that. Mainly because of what followed."

"What follow—nevermind. I don't want to know." Scott paused, looking at the nearby woods. "Well, I should tell you he's here."

"Shit."

Derek stepped out of the woods, moving towards the two lacrosse players.

"Thanks for saying I'm great in bed," Derek said, standing near Scott.

"You are," Stiles said. "Not that I have anyone to compare you to."

"You're not so bad yourself."

"Okay, can we stop?" Scott said.

"Yeah, sure." Derek nudged Scott. "I was just coming to tell Stiles that I just had a talk with his dad."

"Oh, Jesus," Stiles said. "Do you still have balls?"

"Yes, as if I'd let him close enough. He's blaming me for what happened to your face."

"I told him—"

"Yeah, but he says I could've stopped it. Strike one."

"So are you actually scared of his dad?" Scott asked.

"I'm scared of letting him down." Derek was fixing Stiles with a strange look.

"Derek, can we talk?" Stiles asked, nodding to the Jeep.

Derek nodded, following him behind the car.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I'm afraid of letting you get hurt. Or hurting you. Or…letting you die."

"Derek," Stiles said. "My best friend and my boyfriend are werewolves. I'm better protected than most people."

"What about that cut on your face?"

Stiles sighed, folding his arms.

"Look, Stiles," Derek said, stepping closer. "I love you. Your dad loves you. We just want to protect you."

"I love you too, sour wolf."

Derek kissed him; Stiles kissed back. When Derek pulled back, he was smiling.

"Thanks for saying all that stuff."

"It's true," Stiles said. "All of it." He paused. "So what do you see in me?"

Derek chuckled. "My future."

"UGH, YOU GUYS ARE DISGUSTING!" Scott shouted.

They both laughed. Derek leaned in to Stiles' ear, whispering, "You're my everything."

"Hey, Scott!" Stiles shouted. "I'm gonna have to bail on lacrosse practice!"


	8. Punishment

"Stiles, I can't," Derek said, panting, his eyes almost completely red.

"Not until I say," Stiles whispered, licking the wolf's jaw. They were doing the Stiles-on-top, Derek-tied-up thing Stiles had suggested a couple weeks ago. They both incredibly enjoyed it.

"STILES!" Derek arched into the smaller man, eyes turning red as he spurted all over his chest.

Stiles pulled back, an evil glint in his eye. "Now, I have to punish you."

Derek groaned, half from arousal and half from worry. What was Stiles' plan?

Stiles didn't keep him waiting long. He pulled out and undid the belt tying Derek to the headboard. (They didn't use handcuffs anymore because the Sheriff would've found it suspicious.) Then he reached into his bedside table and pulled out…

"A dog collar?" Derek said, incredulous.

"Put it on."

"No way, Stiles. What if someone saw?"

Stiles raised his eyebrows, looking down at his boyfriend with an amused expression.

Derek sighed. Of course he wanted to, he'd just rather they were in a more private place than Stiles' bedroom with the blinds open. So he grabbed the collar and put it on. Stiles attached a leash to it and held the other end.

"Now," Stiles said, "get on all fours. Like a dog."

Derek did as he was told, starting to get hard even though he'd just had an orgasm moments ago. He couldn't see what Stiles was doing, which made it all the more erotic. If any of the pack saw him doing this, he'd have to kill them. They'd never respect him when they learned he submits to a human.

Suddenly, Stiles pulled on the leash, forcing Derek's head backwards. His airway was blocked the smallest amount, but enough to notice it. That turned him on even more.

"This time," Stiles said, "you do not come until I ask or you wear this for the rest of the day. Deal?"

"Deal," Derek said. He felt Stiles press into him slowly. His erection was back in full now.

"How does that feel, huh?" Stiles said, moving slowly but brushing his prostate with each thrust.

"It feels amazing."

"You're loving this, aren't you? Being dominated. Being tied up like a dog and fucked like one, too."

Dirty talk was new to Stiles, but damn, he was good at it. Derek's erection twitched.

"I asked you a question, sour wolf," Stiles said, pulling on the leash harder.

"Yes, yes, I'm loving it." He was indeed; this was the best sex he'd ever had. If someone had told him, when he first started dating Stiles, that he'd enjoy being dominated so much, he would've laughed. Now, though…he was loving it. "Can I touch myself?"

"Hell no," Stiles said. "You wait until I tell you."

"Stiles." Derek was panting. Stiles would occasionally change pace suddenly, which made Derek gasp and groan. Stiles ran a finger lightly down Derek's back, which made him shiver.

"Okay," Stiles said, pulling the leash so Derek could barely breathe. "You can come now."

Derek swallowed, pushed back against Stiles, reached for his erection, and came. He heard Stiles moan behind him and knew Stiles was coming as well. When they were both finished, Stiles pulled out and took the collar off Derek's neck. Derek crawled to the bed and collapsed, panting. Stiles lay down next to him.

"You're gonna have to clean up your mess," Stiles said, pulling the blanket over them both.

"Too tired," Derek said, eyelids closing. "Later."

Stiles smiled, kissing the side of Derek's head and whispering in his ear, "I love you."

"Love you."

Stiles looked up and saw Erica just outside his window, a sly grin on her face. Stiles raised a finger to his lips, and she nodded before disappearing. He thought briefly about telling Derek, but decided against it. Erica wouldn't tell.


	9. Side Effects

"Stiles, what the hell happened?"

Stiles had shown up at the Hale house a few minutes later than they had planned to meet. And he had a cut on his face. Derek stood up quickly from the porch and ran forward, grabbing his boyfriend's face.

"Just a cut, Derek," Stiles said. "At practice, a ball hit me in the face really hard. It's fine now, really."

Derek nodded, kissing Stiles' cheek and leading him inside. It wasn't much of a hang-out spot, given that half the house was burned down, but it was more private than the Stilinski house. They went into the living room, where Derek had a couch on one end and a bed on the other, both of which were found at abandoned houses. They sat on the couch.

"So you're sure your face is okay?"

"Yes, Derek. I'm fine."

He wasn't lying, or else he'd gotten better at it. Derek was hyper-vigilant to Stiles' physical state since the night they beat the kanima; Stiles still hadn't told him who cut his face that night, but the wound had healed, so the subject was dropped.

"Is everything else alright?"

"Yeah. Just the normal life of Stiles."

"You're quiet. I'm supposed to be the quiet one."

"Derek, everything's fine." Now he was lying.

Derek grabbed his hand, looking into his eyes. "Stiles, please tell me. I just want to protect you."

"You can't protect me from everything."

"Stiles, what the hell is going on?"

Stiles stood up, walking a few steps away and folding his arms. His heart was racing. Derek stood up, meaning to go to him, but Stiles turned around.

The cut on his face was gone.

* * *

When Stiles turned to face Derek, he had meant to just talk. But Derek's face suddenly drained of all color. His jaw dropped open, and he fell back on the couch. It must've happened again.

"Stiles, your face…"

"I know. That's what's wrong. I'm healing too fast." He started pacing. "Last week, I cut myself shaving, and it was gone in half an hour. The other day, I got a blood blister from closing the door of my Jeep on my hand, and it was gone within fifteen minutes. Now, I'm going to assume the cut on my face is gone, too."

"Stiles." Derek didn't say anything else. He didn't have to.

"I don't have super hearing or smell or anything. Just the healing. And it's freaking me out."

Derek was just staring at him. Stiles wished he would look away. Instead, he got up off the couch and pulled Stiles into a hug.

"I'll go to Dr. Deaton," he said quietly. "As soon as I can."

Stiles nodded. "This has to stay between us, Derek."

"Of course." Derek pulled back; Stiles could see the fear in his eyes. It was odd that a pack of Alphas didn't faze him, but his boyfriend healing quickly sent him into a frenzy.

"I should go," Stiles said, allowing Derek to kiss him before running back to his Jeep. In all honesty, the healing freaked him out more than he was letting on. He didn't want the bite. He didn't want to put his father in danger every full moon. He didn't want to have to explain to his father why he was suddenly in more danger.

He didn't want his father to watch him die.

* * *

Derek burst into the vet's office, smelling Scott as well as the odd doctor.

Dr. Deaton came out from the back rooms. "Oh, hello, Derek," he said. "How may I help you?"

"I need to talk to you," Derek said. "Alone."

Deaton cocked his head and nodded. "Scott, you're allowed to go home early today. Don't hang around."

Derek heard Scott leave through the back door and drive off. Deaton motioned for him to follow into the back room.

"Something's wrong with Stiles," he said, pacing. "He's healing fast. Like, he healed in front of my eyes. I saw it."

"What other symptoms?"

"None. That's the weird bit. Absolutely nothing. No super hearing, he hasn't shifted…"

"Have you bitten him or scratched him?" Derek shook his head. "Have you done anything that could transfer the virus from you to him?"

"No." Derek stopped pacing. "Yes."

"What is it?"

Derek folded his arms. "The virus can pass from parent to child, yes?" Deaton nodded. "So it's…it's in semen?"

Deaton nodded knowingly. "You don't use protection."

"We didn't think we needed it. Neither of us have any diseases—"

"You do, Derek. You're a wolf."

"So…I've changed him?"

"No," Deaton said. "It's different from parent to child. A child's life is dependent on the parental DNA. How long have you been having sex with Stiles?"

"Three months."

"How regularly?"

Derek felt heat rise in his face. Not much made him embarassed, but talking about his sex life did. "I don't know…on average, four times a week."

Deaton nodded. "The virus is obviously starting to infiltrate his system. I've never dealt with this before, but I assume that if you stop, or use protection, the symptoms will stop."

"What if it doesn't work? What if he's a wolf now?"

"I take it he doesn't want the bite?"

Derek shook his head. "I want to give it to him, to protect him, but he won't do it."

"If he's a wolf," Deaton said, "then you'll deal with that. You'll need to tell him that."

Derek nodded. He wanted to give Stiles the bite, more than almost anything. Stiles was so weak and vulnerable. With the Alpha pack coming…he didn't want to risk losing him. He left the office, driving quickly to Stiles' house. The Sheriff was just leaving for work.

"Derek," he said. "Stiles is in his room, but he's upset about something. Go fix it, alright?"

"Yes, sir," Derek said, waving as the Sheriff drove off. Then he ran up to Stiles' room. "Stiles, it's me."

"I know," Stiles said from the other side of the door. "Come in."

Derek opened the door. Stiles was laying on his bed, staring at his ceiling.

"Is everything alright?" Stiles shrugged. "Come on. Talk to me."

"I heard you downstairs. I heard what my dad said and I hear your heartbeat. You're scared. Well, so am I."

Derek stared at Stiles. "Deaton said it was because we don't use protection. If we stop, the symptoms will stop—"

"You can't lie to me anymore, Derek," Stiles said monotonously. "What did he really say?"

Derek sighed, sitting next to Stiles. "He said it might work."

"Might isn't good enough—"

"It's all we have, Stiles!" He started pacing again. "If the virus is inside you, it's too late. We have to try."

"Well, good, because I'm not in the mood right now."

"Why are you so stubborn? If you're a wolf, you're so much safer—"

"But my dad isn't."

"You're dating me, he's already in danger."

"Then I can't."

Derek stopped, staring at Stiles. He was still staring at the ceiling, his expression unchanged. "You don't mean that."

"I told you I didn't want the bite."

"I didn't give you the bite!"

"No, but you gave me something!"

"I didn't know it would do that, Stiles!"

"You should've known. You know everything."

"NO I DON'T!" Derek shouted, grabbing Stiles and pulling him off the bed. "I don't know everything, I can't protect you, and I couldn't stand it if you left!"

Stiles sniffed, blinking back tears. Derek let him go, stepping back.

"I'm sorry. If you want me to leave, I'll leave."

Stiles didn't say anything as Derek walked out of his room.

* * *

Derek didn't visit Stiles for a week. He was always sad and quiet when he met with the pack. It didn't take them long to notice.

"I don't think he meant it," Isaac said. "Just go talk to him."

Derek would always shake his head. Stiles wouldn't want to see him, he knew that. Thankfully, Scott told him that no new symptoms showed up. Just healing and hearing. That was a relief.

After a week of not talking, Derek got a text from Stiles: "I want to talk. Come to my house." Derek mustered the courage to visit. He didn't want the official break-up speech. He didn't want to cry in front of Stiles.

When he pulled into the driveway, the Sheriff's car was gone. He knocked on the front door. It took Stiles a moment to answer.

"You don't normally knock," he said.

"I'm not normally summoned by text."

Stiles nodded. "Come in. Living room."

Derek had never felt so awkward around Stiles, not even when they first met. He sat on the couch; Stiles hesitated above the couch before sitting in a different chair.

"Derek—"

"You don't have to say anything. I know why I'm here."

"No, you really don't." Stiles smiled. "I didn't ask you here to break up with you."

Derek paused. "You didn't?"

"I asked you here to tell you that I love you. And that I'm sorry for overreacting. It's been a week and nothing's happened. I'm not a wolf."

Derek didn't say anything for a minute. "I love you, too."

"I don't mind the healing, you know. The hearing is a bit weird, but I'm getting used to it."

"Stiles, I—"

"Don't, okay? I feel bad enough."

They were silent for about five minutes. Stiles got up and sat next to Derek on the couch, grabbing his hand. Derek rested his head on Stiles' shoulder, taking in the scent of him.

"I've missed you," he whispered.

"Don't let the pack hear you say that," Stiles whispered back. "They'd never let you live it down."

"Oh, by the way, why didn't you tell me Erica walked in on us?"

Stiles laughed. "I thought it would be better for your ego."

"Yes, it was much better for her to bring it up in front of the _whole pack_. That was much better for my ego."

Stiles laughed again, kissing the top of Derek's head.

Suddenly, the Sheriff walked in.

"Ah," he said when he saw them. "Back together. Good. Derek, a word?"

Derek nodded, following the Sheriff into the kitchen. He knew Stiles could hear the conversation.

When they were out of eyesight, the Sheriff grabbed Derek by the ear.

"I thought I told you not to hurt him."

"Sheriff, sir, ouch, that hurts," Derek said, trying to pull away.

"Oh, that hurts? You know what really hurts? Hearing my son crying." Derek gulped. "I heard him crying in his room the other night, and I'm positive it wasn't because his favorite TV show was cancelled. If you make my son cry again, I'll—"

"Cut off my balls, I know."

"No, Derek. If you make my son cry, I will pull your limbs off with my hands and leave you to float along in the ocean. Is that clear?"

Derek nodded. The Sheriff let go of his ear.

"So why did you break up with him?"

"I didn't," Derek said, staying out of the Sheriff's way. "It was…a misunderstanding."

"Well, make sure it doesn't happen again."

"Absolutely, sir."

Suddenly, Stiles walked into the kitchen, grabbed a knife, and cut his arm about an inch long.

"STILES!" the Sheriff shouted, reaching for him.

"This is why we broke up," Stiles said, offering up his arm, which was healed already.

The Sheriff stopped, eyes widening. "What the hell—"

"Derek, show him."

Derek looked from father to son.

"Shift, Derek! Shift! It's time I stopped lying to him."

Derek nodded, shifting into a wolf. The Sheriff yelped and took a step back, reaching for his gun holster, even though he didn't have his gun.

"Sheriff, it's okay," Derek said.

"What the hell is going on?"

"Dad, Derek's a werewolf."

The Sheriff stood in the middle of the kitchen, jaw almost on the floor, staring between the wolf and his son. Derek shifted back to human, hoping to make it more comfortable for the Sheriff.

"I need a drink."

Stiles quickly put together a glass of sherry for his dad, handing it over.

"Okay," the Sheriff said, sitting at the table. "Start from the beginning."

Stiles and Derek explained about werewolves, and why Stiles could heal, and why they broke up. It took them over an hour, Stiles interrupting when he thought he could explain something better. When they were finished, the Sheriff had finished three glasses of sherry.

"So what happens now?" he asked.

"I don't know," Derek said. "Deaton said he won't turn into a wolf, not unless we…"

"Continue fooling around without protection?" the Sheriff finished. "I can buy condoms. It's…the most I'm willing to do."

"Thanks, Dad," Stiles said. "I've only got healing and hearing. Nothing else has happened to me. So I should be good."

The Sheriff poured himself another glass. "Get out, I need some time to process this."

They went up to Stiles' bedroom. Stiles sat on his bed, but Derek paced the room instead.

"Come on, Derek. It's fine now."

"It isn't fine. Our entire relationship, you've told me you don't want the bite because you want to protect your dad. But you just told him everything!"

"I hate lying to him," Stiles said. Derek continued pacing. "Look, I had a lot of time to think this week. I can't protect my dad, not from everything, and if he knows about wolves, he's more prepared. He's safer knowing."

"I understand." Derek sat in the computer chair, looking at Stiles. "It's just…I can't keep up with your brain sometimes. You do stuff and I don't know why. You're unpredictable." He paused. "And when I see you with the Sheriff…it isn't often, but sometimes, I miss my dad."

Stiles nodded. "I get that."

Derek was about to say that no, Stiles had no idea, but of course he knew, Stiles' mom was dead. Stiles might be the only person who really understood, him and Isaac.

"Derek, I can't protect my dad, and you can't protect me. Okay? Not all the time."

"I'm sorry I made you cry."

Stiles got up and sat on Derek's lap, resting his head against his shoulder. "If you stay the night, that'll make up for it."

Derek nuzzled against Stiles. "I was terrified that I was gonna lose you."

"You can't get rid of me that easy, sour wolf."

Derek lifted Stiles and put him on the bed, laying next to him. "I don't know how I deserve you."

"Same here." He sighed. "Enough of this sappy talk. I haven't even kissed you in a week. Take off your clothes."


	10. Secrets part 1

Stiles was hanging out on Derek's couch while Isaac was out, resting his head on Derek's lap while surfing the Internet on his laptop. Derek was watching.

"Derek," Stiles said, closing his computer and sitting up. "I want to tell you my real name."

Derek blinked. "Really? You trust me with it?"

Stiles shrugged. "You deserve to know. But only on one condition."

"I knew there was a catch."

"You tell me your biggest secret."

Derek stiffened, heart beating faster. "Why?"

"Because my name is my biggest secret," Stiles said. "If you don't want to tell me, that's fine. You won't know my name."

"You're not bribing me into telling you—"

"I'm not trying to, Derek. Chill out, okay? It's a secret-for-secret thing. You don't have to tell me."

"I want to know your name."

Stiles stayed silent. Derek's lips were pursed in thought.

"If I tell you," he said finally, "you have to promise to never repeat it. _Ever_."

"I promise," Stiles said. "Cross my heart, hope to die."

Derek nodded. "You first. Your secret is easier to tell."

Stiles leaned in and whispered his name in Derek's ear. Derek bit his lip, barely concealing a grin. Stiles hit him.

"Your turn, sour wolf."

Derek shook his head. "I can't, Stiles."

"Dammit, Derek, I just told you the biggest secret of my life, and you're breaking your promise." Derek frowned, looking away from him. "Tell me, dammit!"

"Stiles, shut up!" Derek said loudly, getting up quickly and walking away.

"Derek, stop, I'm sorry," Stiles said, following him.

"I slept with Kate Argent," Derek said sharply. "When I was in high school. She was having sex with me to get close to my family and then she killed them."

"Derek," Stiles said, but he couldn't say anything else.

"She made me fall in love with her and then stabbed me in the back." Derek was facing away from him, but Stiles could tell he was close to crying. "Your biggest secret is your name. Mine is that I killed my family."

"Derek, you didn't kill your family." Stiles stepped forward, meaning to put a hand on his shoulder.

"Just GO!" Derek shouted, turning quickly. He had shifted into a wolf completely. Stiles jumped back, throwing his arms over his head. When he peeked through his arms, Derek had shifted back, regret filling his face. "Stiles—"

"No," Stiles said, grabbing his laptop and jacket. "Just no."

"Stiles, please—"

Stiles ran out of the house, jumping in his Jeep and driving off, tears leaking out of his eyes. It was no wonder Derek had trust issues. But shifting had scared Stiles; Derek had never threatened him before.

* * *

Derek was still pacing the house, hating himself, when the Sheriff pulled up an hour later.

"Shit," he said quietly. As much as he hated himself for what he did, the Sheriff would hate him more.

"DEREK!" the Sheriff shouted, getting out of his car. "GET OUT HERE NOW!"

Derek gulped, going out to the porch.

"What the_ hell_ did you do to my son?"

"I'm sorry, sir."

"I told you never to make my son cry again!"

Oh, no. "He was crying?"

"Yes," the Sheriff said, coming up to the porch. Derek took a step back. The Sheriff noticed. "I won't hurt you. Unless you say something stupid." Derek nodded, but didn't move closer. "Aren't you going to invite me in?"

They went inside, where the Sheriff sat on the couch and Derek continued pacing the room.

"What the hell happened?" the Sheriff asked. Derek couldn't help noticing that the Sheriff was touching his gun.

"He told me his name, and I told him my deepest secret."

"And you just decided to scare the shit out of him?"

"No, sir, I lost control. Anger used to be my anchor but not anymore."

"Your anchor?"

Derek nodded. "What allows me to control myself when I'm a wolf. I used to focus on anger but now…my anchor is Stiles. So when I get angry, I have to think about him, and I wasn't thinking about him today."

"What were you thinking about?" The Sheriff didn't sound angry anymore.

"My secret. Your son is the only person alive besides myself that knows it. And I'd like to keep it that way."

They were silent for a minute. Derek wanted to see Stiles, to hold him and comfort him. But he had a feeling the Sheriff wouldn't let him leave just yet.

"I told you he was different," the Sheriff finally said. "He trusts you but you broke that trust. I don't know if he'll want to see you. Then again, I didn't know he was gay."

"I understand him better than you think I do, Sheriff. I think he'll want to see me."

They both heard Stiles' Jeep at the same time. The Sheriff stood up and stepped forward, shoulder-to-shoulder with Derek. Stiles opened the door, freezing when he saw his father.

"Dad," he said. "What are you doing here?"

"Didn't you see my car?"

Stiles looked over his shoulder. "No, I wasn't really paying attention. I was thinking about Derek."

Derek felt himself flush.

"Dad, I'd really like to talk to Derek alone, please."

The Sheriff nodded, giving Derek a look before leaving. Stiles waited until the car was out of sight before speaking.

"I'm sorry—"

"Stiles, don't you dare say that. You have nothing to be sorry for."

"I shouldn't have made you tell."

"I'm sorry for shifting and scaring you and yelling at you."

Stiles wrung his hands. "Derek, you didn't kill your family. I know you feel like you did, but you didn't. You didn't know what she was going to do. I mean, hell, she was pretty hot. I get it."

"You're the first person I've been with since then, Stiles. It's been six years and you're the first person I've trusted enough."

"You could get any guy or girl you wanted," Stiles said. "Why the hell did you settle for me?"

"I didn't settle," Derek said. "You're the person I want. I feel like you're all I've ever wanted."

"Why do you always do that?"

"Do what?"

"Say sappy stuff that makes me want to cry."

Derek frowned. "Oh, please don't cry. Your dad will kill me."

Stiles laughed. "He wouldn't, really. Because that would make me cry more. He's just trying to protect me."

"Sometimes I think he just likes threatening me."

Stiles stepped forward and hugged Derek tightly. Derek reciprocated, taking in Stiles' scent. It seemed like they were having more and more fights now, which wasn't good.

"Sometimes," Stiles said, pulling back, "I feel like we're on the wrong side of the hill. I feel like we're going down."

"Stiles, what the hell does that mean?"

"I feel like we hit our peak, in our relationship. And it's just gonna get worse from here."

"Don't you ever say that. Never."

"I'm just being honest."

"Well, if you want to break up—"

"Derek, I didn't say that."

"Sounded like it."

Stiles sighed, stepping back. "I'm saying it's gonna be tough. It's never been easy but I feel like it's going to get tougher. But," he continued, "I think we can do it."

"How are you so sure?"

Stiles shrugged. "Don't you think we can do it?"

Derek looked at Stiles for a minute before turning and pacing the room.

"Derek—"

"I heard you. I just don't see why you think this is going so badly. It's not like you have any experience dating someone."

Stiles frowned. "You don't either. You said I'm the only person you've been with other than Kate."

"You're the only person I've been with _since_ Kate. I had relationships before her."

"With who?"

"None of your business, Stiles. They're all a lot older than you." He was still pacing, feeling angry but not knowing why. "You can't just say you think we're not doing well and then that's it. You can't do that."

"Okay, I'm sorry, I was just trying to communicate. That's what makes a good relationship, right? Communication?"

"I trust you."

"I trust you, too, Derek, and I love you. What the hell are you so angry about?"

"I DON'T KNOW!" Derek shouted, feeling his teeth sharpen. "Fuck, I'm sorry, I'm not trying to shift so much—"

"Isn't anger what keeps you in your right mind?"

"Not anymore. You're my anchor, Stiles, and when you make me angry, I don't know what to do."

"But why are you angry at me?"

Derek stopped pacing, staring at Stiles. "Because the last time I trusted someone, my family died. And I don't want to lose you."

"Derek. You won't lose me. Ever."

Derek went to the couch and sat down, head in his hands. "That's what Kate said. When I told her I was a werewolf, she said she'd never leave me."

Stiles didn't say anything. He just stood there.

"Dammit, Stiles, say something."

"I don't know what to say. You've never told me this much about yourself. Not in one sitting."

"Because it's my personal life and the last time I trusted—"

"I know, Derek. I know what happened. I get it. But I am not Kate Argent, okay? I'm Stiles. And I love you."

Derek looked up. Stiles was crying. "This isn't working, is it?"

"Derek."

"No, Stiles, just listen. We need to be open and honest and we haven't been. I haven't been."

"Then be honest."

"I want to marry you."


	11. Secrets part 2

"I want to marry you."

Stiles' jaw dropped. Had Derek really just said that? "Derek, I'm sixteen."

"I know, I didn't mean_ now_, but I do." Derek looked so sincere. So vulnerable. "I want to marry you."

Stiles looked away, folding his arms. "We've been dating for three months, Derek. Isn't it a little soon to be thinking about marriage?"

"You don't want to."

"No, Derek, I didn't say that."

"You're not saying yes."

"Derek, I am sixteen years old, and I don't even know how old you are. We'd have to wait at least two years and even then—"

"I'm twenty-four," Derek said, standing from the couch. "Turning twenty-five on the same day you turn seventeen."

"Derek, that's an eight-year difference. You're almost a decade older than me."

"That won't matter when you're eighteen—"

"But I'm not eighteen yet! Don't you get it? My dad is the _sheriff_. He thinks you're, like, nineteen, twenty at most." Stiles paced around the room, running his hands through his hair. "Jesus, Derek."

"Stiles, if you don't want to, just say no." He sounded a lot more upset than he looked.

"A lot of people would find it creepy when a twenty-four-year-old man falls in love with a sixteen-year-old boy. It's a little unsettling even for me."

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

"Any other secrets you're hiding?" Stiles asked. "Do you have an advanced degree or something? A secret life as a stripper?"

"No," Derek said. "I've told you everything."

Stiles didn't say anything.

"Stiles, please—" Derek stopped, turning towards the front door. Isaac walked in, listening to music with headphones on. He looked up, glancing between Stiles and Derek.

"Oh, sorry," he said, taking off his headphones. "Should I leave?"

"No, I was just leaving," Stiles said, walking towards the door. Derek stopped him and kissed him before letting him go. Stiles understood; they had to keep up appearances for Isaac.

As Stiles was driving home, he kept thinking about Derek's age. What was the age of consent in California? What would the Sheriff say? He tried not to make too much noise when he opened and closed the front door, but his father was waiting for him.

"How'd it go?"

Stiles shrugged, going to the kitchen and grabbing a soda.

"Stiles, are you two still together?"

"I don't know," Stiles said, attempting to leave. The Sheriff blocked his path.

"Talk to me, Stiles. What happened?"

Stiels sighed, taking a seat at the table. "We made up. And then we had a fight. And then he asked me to marry him."

"I'm sorry?"

"I mean, he didn't ask. He said he wanted to marry me. At some point."

"Wow," the Sheriff said, leaning back in his chair. "What do you think?"

"I don't fucking know."

"Stiles, don't say that word—"

Stiles slammed his soda on the table. "He's twenty-four, Dad."

The Sheriff stared at Stiles, pursing his lips. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah. He's turning twenty-five in a few months."

Stiles watched his father closely; his nostrils were flaring. "Stiles, you're having sex with a twenty-four-year-old man?"

"I didn't know how old he was until today."

"But he knew your age." The Sheriff grabbed Stiles by his collar and dragged him to his car. "We're going to pay him a little visit."

"Dad—"

"Shut up, Stiles. This is a felony."

Stiles got in the car and buckled his seatbelt as his dad drove off, to the Hale house. He was scared for Derek. Now that the Sheriff knew what Derek was, it would be easier to hurt him. They pulled up in front of the Hale house and got out.

"DEREK HALE!" the Sheriff shouted. Derek appeared on the porch. The Sheriff strode forward and pinned him to the side of the house by his throat.

"Dad, don't hurt him!" Stiles said.

The Sheriff moved his hand from Derek's throat to his chest, still pushing him against the wall. "I'm going to kill you, Hale."

"Sheriff, please, let me explain—"

"Explain why you committed a felony?"

Isaac showed up in the threshold, looking confused. He looked at Stiles; Stiles shook his head.

"Sir, that wasn't my intention."

"You knew he was sixteen, Hale. Don't tell me you don't know the age of consent in this state."

"I know it's eighteen, Sheriff." Stiles cursed silently. "I just wanted to be with him."

"Dad, please—"

"Stiles, shut up!" The Sheriff pulled out his gun; Isaac shifted and growled at him. "Stay back, Lahey."

"It won't hurt me, Isaac," Derek said, although he looked scared.

"Yes it will, Hale. You told me the Argents were werewolf hunters. I bought some bullets from them."

"DAD!" Stiles shouted, stepping forward.

The Sheriff turned to Stiles. "You're not allowed to see him until you're eighteen, understand? You don't go anywhere near him."

"Dad, that's not fair—"

"If you continue to date him," the Sheriff said, "I will have to report him. I am the sheriff. I have a duty to report felonies."

"You're my _father_! You have a duty to make me happy!"

"Not when you're breaking the law!"

"Sheriff," Derek said, still flat against the wall even though he was no longer pinned there. "Please, let me explain."

"What the hell is there to explain, Hale? You knew his age."

"When I was in high school, my senior year, I got in a relationship with a woman." Stiles stared at Derek. He couldn't be telling the Sheriff his secret. "Her name was Kate Argent. I was eighteen so it was legal but it wasn't…right. She was the first woman I ever slept with. And she was using me to get close to my family. She set fire to our house, Sheriff. She used me to kill my own family."

Isaac was glancing between Derek and Stiles. The Sheriff had his back to Stiles, but he knew his father was listening intently.

"I was in love with her, Sheriff," Derek continued. "And she…she killed my family. I helped her kill my family. And I told myself I'd never be with anyone ever again. But then I met your son." Derek made eye contact with Stiles for a few seconds. "When I say it wasn't my intention to break the law, I mean it. My intentions were selfish. He made me happier than anyone ever had."

"Hale, where the hell is this going?"

"Sir, after what happened with Kate…after I killed my family, I wouldn't let just anyone have my heart. I was willing to risk going to jail for him. Because he's worth it. I'd die for him. If you want us to not date until he's legal, fine, but please, sir, don't say I can't see him. He's all I have."

Everyone was silent. The Sheriff slowly lowered his gun and put it away.

"You're not off the hook, Hale," he said. "You're still breaking the law. But…as long as you continue to make my son happy, I can look the other way. One mistake and I'll kill you myself."

Derek nodded. "I'll never hurt him again, Sheriff. I promise."

The Sheriff nodded, turning to Stiles. Neither of them said anything; they didn't have to.

"Do you want to stay?" the Sheriff asked. Stiles nodded. "Make sure you get home safe." He got in his car and drove away.

"Derek," Isaac said, "why didn't you tell any of us?"

"Because he regrets it, Isaac," Stiles said. "Surely that's obvious."

"No, I mean, why didn't you tell us how old you were?"

Derek smiled. "Because it wasn't important."

"Obviously it was," Isaac said. "I mean, isn't it illegal to give minors alcohol?"

"Shut up," Derek said. "Just…leave us alone for a bit, okay?"

Isaac nodded, disappearing back into the house. Stiles stepped forward, at the edge of the porch. Derek wasn't looking at him.

"Derek," Stiles said. Derek looked up. "I'm not mad at you."

"You should be. I lied to you."

"Technically, you didn't lie. I never asked your age."

"I should've told you."

"Derek, honestly, it isn't a big deal, now that I think about it. I mean, it's weird, yeah, but nothing's changed since yesterday."

"That's not true," Derek said. "I've proposed since yesterday."

Stiles smiled. "Yes." Derek looked confused. "I'm saying yes."

Derek smiled, his whole face lighting up. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah. I mean, not now, not any time soon, but yeah. Yes. I would love to marry you."

Derek bit his lip, still smiling. "Damn, Stiles, you're going to make me cry."

"We should keep in mind that it's currently illegal in this state, though."

"Won't be for long. And while we wait, we'll still be together. They can't stop us from dating." Derek stepped forward and hugged Stiles tightly.

So maybe it would be tougher from now on. But so what? The prize was a lifetime with Derek. That was worth it.


	12. Too Much Fun

Stiles woke up on November 28th with an awful hangover, worse than he's ever had. He was grateful for the blackout curtains covering his windows. He only knew what day it was because he knew yesterday was his birthday. And Derek's birthday. Speaking of Derek, where was he? Stiles slowly looked around his bedroom, but couldn't find the mysterious wolf.

Someone knocked on his door. Stiles flinched, the noise making his head throb.

"Come in," he said, his voice raspy.

The door opened and his father walked in. "Good afternoon, sunshine."

"What time is it?"

"One-thirty."

"Jesus…"

"You've been asleep since about three this morning. Not sure what you and Derek were doing out that late." The Sheriff sat in Stiles' computer chair. "He didn't seem as drunk as you, but maybe he's just got a higher tolerance. Considering you're seventeen and shouldn't be drinking at all."

"Dad," Stiles said, trying not to move. "I feel like utter shit."

"Good. I've got eggs and water downstairs." Stiles frowned. "It always helped my hangovers."

"I don't want to go downstairs. I just want to die."

"Too much fun has its consequences. Derek's down there waiting for you. Come on."

Stiles groaned, slowly sitting up. His dad got up to help him stand. As soon as they went into the hall, Stiles felt a wave of nausea that might have been from the light or the movement. He tried to walk normally but his thighs hurt. At the bottom of the stairs, Stiles could see Derek in the kitchen. The light was kiling him.

"Afternoon," Derek said, getting up to help Stiles.

"Hi."

Stiles tried to sit in the chair, but his butt hurt as well as his thighs. He winced, standing back up, which made him nauseated again.

"Oh, right," Derek said. "Here." He put a cushion on Stiles' chair.

"What the hell is that about?" the Sheriff asked.

"Sir," Derek said, "your son and I were drunk on our birthday. We were safe."

"Oh, Christ," the Sheriff said, rubbing his temples. "I'm going to work. Take care of him, Hale." He left.

"Stiles?"

"What?" Stiles was sitting on the cushion, taking small bites of the scrambled eggs.

"What's the last thing you remember?"

Stiles shrugged. "I remember…finishing the first bottle of rum."

Derek laughed; Stiles winced. "Oh, man. You blacked out pretty damn quick."

"Tell me what happened."

Derek took a deep breath. "Together, we finished ten more bottles of booze. You continued to drink bottles of beer after I stopped."

"Jesus Christ…" He was starting to remember some things: drinking, asking Derek for more booze, throwing up a few times.

"Stiles, did you know that you get really horny when you're drunk?" Derek laughed. "Like, extremely horny."

Stiles stopped eating to drink some water. It felt good on his throat.

"That's why your thighs hurt. And your ass. And possibly your back."

"Jesus, Derek."

"Hey, you said you wanted it to hurt. If I recall, your exact words were 'I want you to fuck me so hard, my dead mother feels it.'"

"Walk me through the whole night, please." Stiles stopped eating and sipping the water, feeling sick again.

"I picked you up around three in the afternoon. We went to a liquor store, where I bought a bunch of booze. We drank a bit while I took you to my favorite nature spot."

"I remember all that."

"Okay, after you blacked out, you drank a few more sips before jumping me and begging me to fuck you. When we were done, you wanted to go back to my place. Where you jumped me again. More booze, more sex—"

"How many times did we have sex?"

"Five. Possibly six. I don't remember exactly."

"How the hell do either of us have enough sperm to have sex five times?"

"Damned if I know," Derek said. "Anyway, I stopped drinking when you started slurring your words. I sobered up kind of quickly, as I do. Hard to get drunk as a wolf. It's certainly possible, but I wanted to stay sober so I could take care of you."

"Hold that thought." Stiles got up and vomited in the sink. Derek shot out of his seat, holding Stiles up. When Stiles' stomach was empty, Derek moved him to the living room, which was closer to the downstairs bathroom. He sat Stiles on his lap, presumably to prevent pain from the bruises.

"Okay?" Derek said, stroking Stiles' hair.

"Yeah. What happened then?"

"Well, I think you should eat something first."

"I just tried, Derek. I threw it back up."

"Yeah, but you shouldn't have an empty stomach."

"Derek—"

"I'll make you something." Derek put Stiles on the couch, moving towards the kitchen. "First I should clean the sink."

"DEREK!"

Derek turned, frowning.

"I feel like shit, okay?"

"And I'm trying to make you feel better."

"Then come back here. The only smell I can tolerate is you. Please."

Derek sighed, sitting back on the couch and allowing Stiles to rest his head on his lap. He continued stroking Stiles' hair.

"I should've stopped you," Derek said. "At about one in the morning, you couldn't take a sip of anything without throwing it up. I told your dad I'd keep you safe."

"Derek, what happened?"

Derek sighed. "You fell down my stairs. Only from halfway up, but it scared the shit out of me. Scared Isaac, too. It knocked you out for a few minutes. When you woke up, I took you straight home. I'm lucky your dad didn't kill me. I swore to him I wouldn't hurt you."

"You didn't."

"But I didn't stop you. We can't do that again."

"Don't worry," Stiles said, chuckling. "I never want to touch alcohol again."

Derek laughed. "You'll change your mind."

"I feel like I'm dying."

"I've never had a hangover."

"Lucky you, sour wolf. Now go clean the sink."

* * *

Stiles must have fallen asleep on the couch while Derek was cleaning. He sat up, rubbing his eyes. It was dark outside.

"Ah, you're up." The Sheriff was sitting in his favorite chair. "It's now seven at night. Sleep well?"

Stiles looked around. "Yeah. Yeah, I feel better, too. Where's Derek?"

"Nice to see you, Dad. It's sure great to be hanging out with you."

"Dad, really, where is he?"

The Sheriff rolled his eyes. "He wasn't here when I got home. But he left a note. Here."

Stiles grabbed the piece of paper from his dad. It read: "Stiles, Had to leave. Cleaned the sink (and the toilet and the couch, which you threw up on after you passed out). Be back tonight. Love you. Derek."

"You know," the Sheriff said, turning on the TV, "when Derek came in with you last night—this morning, technically—I wanted to kill him. You literally couldn't hold yourself up, you reeked of booze and vomit, and you were covered in bruises and dust. I actually had my hand on my gun. But I couldn't kill a crying man."

"He was crying?" Stiles asked, dropping the note on the coffee table.

"Yeah. Bawling. Begged me not to shoot, begged me to help him carry you upstairs. He's got super strength, kid, but he needed me to carry you upstairs. Because he was scared to hurt you. I know he's eight years older than you, but you'd be hard pressed to find another guy or girl who cares that much about you." The Sheriff took a deep breath. "Your mom would've loved him."

They were quiet, watching some cop show that didn't show what being a cop really was. Stiles couldn't imagine Derek crying. It kind of broke his heart.

"Don't you let him go, Stiles," the Sheriff said suddenly.

"I won't, Dad. He's a werewolf, I can't hide from him."

"I'm serious." They locked eyes for a second before there was a knock on the door. Stiles got up to answer it.

"Oh, good," Derek said. "You're feeling better. Can I come in?"

"How long were you listening?" Derek looked confused, but smirked slightly. "I know you were listening. You came in at the perfect time."

Derek rolled his eyes. "I've been listening the whole time. Ever since I left."

"That's a bit creepy, sour wolf."

"I had to make sure your dad wouldn't kill me. I mean, I almost couldn't get the vomit out of the carpet. Took a shit-ton of paper towels."

Stiles smiled. "Just so you know, if you throw up on my carpet, I'm not cleaning it up." Derek laughed.

"Invite the man in, Stiles!" the Sheriff said from the living room.

Stiles took Derek's hand and they went to sit on the couch.

"Hold on a minute." The Sheriff stood up. "Derek." He held out his hand, which Derek shook. "What you do for my son is amazing. I wanted to say thank you."

"I don't do it for you, sir," Derek said. "I do it because I'd hate myself if I hurt him."

"That's good enough for me, son."

Stiles stared at his father. He'd never called Derek 'son' before. Derek must have noticed it too; he smiled and sat down, flushed.

"Good job, Dad," Stiles said. "You embarassed Derek."

"I'm not embarassed. I'm…I don't know. Flattered."

"But Derek, if you let my son get that drunk again, there will be consequences."

"Yes, sir. I'll take care of him, sir."

"Stop calling me 'sir,' Hale, it's too formal. Call me Sheriff." He paused. "Or Dad."

Derek bit his lip, nodding. Stlies grabbed his hand. He saw Derek's eyes water.

"Don't cry, sour wolf," Stiles whispered in his ear. "You clean up my puke, you're part of the family."

"Gee, thanks."

"If you two are going to whisper, you might as well go up to Stiles' room."

"Yes, Dad," Derek said. "That's weird. I haven't called anyone 'Dad' in six years."

"Go away before you make me cry, Hale."

Derek and Stiles went upstairs. Stiles flopped onto his bed.

"Don't tell me you're still tired," Derek said. "You've slept, like, eighteen of the last twenty-four hours."

"I'm not tired, just bored. And I don't want to have sex, I'm still in a lot of pain." Stiles paused. "Did you know that you're now a quarter of a century old?"

"Shut up," Derek said, poking Stiles in the side. Stiles squirmed. "Oh, you're ticklish?" Derek kept poking him; Stiles was moving around and laughing, trying to get away from him. They ended up both on the bed, Derek on top of Stiles. He smiled. "I love you."

"I love you, too," Stiles said. "Just don't tickle me when I'm still hungover. I might throw up on you."

"Again." Derek lay down next to Stiles, taking his hand.

"I am still tired, though."

"Then sleep. I'll still be here."

"Promise?" Stiles' eyelids were drooping shut.

"Promise."


	13. Blame

It was rare that the Sheriff got called out in the middle of the night, but when it happened, Stiles couldn't get back to sleep. This time, it was an armed man holding his wife and daughter hostage. Stiles overheard the address and knew he had to do something; the police were great, but there was no guarantee that no one would get hurt. When the Sheriff was gone, he called Derek.

"What's wrong?" Derek said as a greeting.

"There's an armed man holding his wife and daughter hostage," Stiles said quickly. "And they called my dad out."

"Is he okay?"

"Yeah, for now, but I don't want anything to happen to him."

"What do you want me to do?"

"I need you to neutralize this guy."

"Stiles—"

"I'm serious, Derek. I've got a bad feeling about this."

He heard Derek sigh, and could almost see his eyes rolling. "You had a bad feeling the time he went to catch an escaped bear. Nothing happened."

"Derek, please."

Derek was silent for a moment. "Fine. But if I get caught, I'm blaming you."

Stiles read him the address and hung up. He felt much better now that Derek was on the case. He was actually able to fall asleep.

He woke up to the house phone ringing. Temporarily caught off guard, he looked around his room: barely an hour had passed. Oh God. He ran to his dad's study and picked up the phone.

"Dad?"

"Stiles, this is Officer Rathbone. Your father's been shot."

"No." Stiles sank to the ground, tears falling down his face already.

"He's alive, Stiles. But we're sending someone to pick you up."

"I can drive. Is he okay?"

"He was shot in the arm. But yes, he's stable."

"Thanks." He hung up. Thank God his dad was alive. He closed his eyes for a second to collect himself then went to his room to change. When he was fully dressed, he started down the stairs. Derek was at the front door. Stiles felt a surge of anger.

"Stiles, listen to me—"

"I asked you to protect him!"

"Stiles—"

"I thought he was dead!" Stiles was nose-to-nose with Derek, tears stinging his eyes again.

"I know."

Stiles tried to get past him, tried to push him out of the way, but Derek blocked him.

"Will you just listen to me?"

"NO!" Stiles shouted, hitting Derek's chest. "YOU SAID YOU'D PROTECT HIM!"

Derek pulled Stiles into a hug, which Stiles was too tired to fight.

"Stiles," he said, "believe me, I tried. Really. I came in through the window but he ran into the hall, where the Sheriff was waiting. He shot before the Sheriff could. He's okay. I promise."

Stiles breathed in Derek's scent, trying to calm down. He was so angry, at Derek and at the shooter and at the world.

"Do you want me to drive?"

"No," Stiles said. "No, I don't want you to come."

"Stiles—"

"You should've saved him."

"He's alive."

"He'd be home by now if you'd done your job."

"Stiles—"

"Get out of my way!" He pushed past Derek, who stepped out of the way. He ran to his Jeep, climbed in, and drove off.

At the hospital, Stiles quickly found his father's room. None of the officers stopped him from entering.

"Dad."

"Stiles," his dad said from his bed. His arm was in a sling and he had a few IV lines, but he was otherwise fine.

"Dad," Stiles said, but couldn't say anything else as he started crying.

"Hey, hey, come here," the Sheriff said, motioning with his good arm. Stiles sat next to him and allowed his dad to grab his hand. "What's wrong?"

"I got the call and I thought you were dead."

"I'm okay. You can't get rid of me, kid." Stiles nodded but didn't stop crying. "Something else is wrong."

"When you left, I called Derek."

"Stiles, I told you not to do that anymore."

"I know but I had a really bad feeling and he said he'd stop the guy but when he came through the window the shooter went into the hallway."

"I was wondering why that happened."

"If he hadn't tried to help—"

"Hey, Stiles, don't you dare." The Sheriff gripped his hand harder. "Don't blame him for this."

"He scared the guy into the hall—"

"What happens happens, Stiles. You know that. There's no need to lay blame on anyone."

"I thought you were dead, Dad."

"I know, Stiles. I know that was scary. But it was the shooter's fault. Okay? Not Derek's."

Stlies sighed, wiping his face. The Sheriff didn't say anything until Stiles stopped crying.

"You should go home," he said. "Go to sleep. You've got school tomorrow. And a boyfriend to make up with."

"Thanks, Dad." He tried to hug his dad as best he could and left.

Back home, Derek was waiting in the living room, as Stiles thought he would be.

"Is he okay?" Derek said.

"Yeah. I'm sorry for freaking out on you."

"No, no, Stiles, don't apologize." Derek hugged him tightly, the almost bone-crushing hug that Stiles loved. "I understand completely. I'm sorry for not protecting your dad."

"Not your fault. I shouldn't have asked you."

They stood in the middle of the room, hugging, for a few more minutes. Then Stiles yawned, and Derek led him upstairs to sleep. He was about to leave when Stiles grabbed his hand.

"Stay with me. Sleep here."

"I shouldn't—"

"I'll feel better if you stay here."

Derek bit his lip and sighed. "Fine. But only because you're adorable and I love you."

"I love you too."

Derek curled up next to Stiles, and Stiles fell asleep listening to his heart.


	14. It's Over Now

Stiles spent his eighteenth birthday with Derek, glad their relationship was no longer illegal. He didn't have as much alcohol as he had last year, since he didn't want that bad of a hangover again. Derek wouldn't let him leave until he was sober enough to drive, so it was very late (or very early, depending on your perspective) when Stiles finally set out to drive home.

Derek called him as he was driving away.

"Hey, sourwolf," Stiles said.

"I just wanted to say that I love you very much."

"What brought this on?"

"I just do. I love you. And tomorrow I may or may not be officially proposing."

Stiles smiled. "I love you, too. I'll call you when I wake up."

"Promise?" He sounded scared.

"Yeah, of course. What's wrong?"

Derek sighed. "Nothing. I just…I have a bad feeling. And I love you."

"I love you, too. Now I've gotta go, I'm driving." He was stopped at a stop sign, waiting for Derek to hang up before turning left.

"Bye, Stiles."

Stiles hung up, tossed the phone in his passenger seat, and started to turn left.

* * *

On the other side of town, half an hour earlier, a man was drinking heavily at home. His wife came out of their bedroom and yelled at him to stop drinking or get out. He grabbed a few bottles and got in his car, driving away. It was an old car, so the headlights didn't automatically turn on. He was too drunk to think about it.

Which is why Stiles didn't see him coming.

As Stiles turned left, the man came speeding around a corner, headed straight for the blue Jeep. He didn't think to brake, instead swerving left and slamming into the driver door. He finally braked, but the momentum was enough to crash them both into a tree. Stiles' Jeep was pinned between the tree and the drunk man's car.

* * *

The Sheriff woke to the sound of his cell phone ringing. It didn't surprise him.

"Hello?" he said, looking at his alarm clock.

"Sheriff, you need to come out here." It was one of his old patrol partners, Officer Rathbone.

"What's going on? Why didn't you use the police radio?"

"It's Stiles."

The Sheriff felt his stomach drop. "What happened?"

"He's been in a wreck. You need to come out here." Rathbone told him an intersection and hung up.

Not Stiles. Not now. He had just turned eighteen and was spending the day with Derek. Oh, God, Derek. Did Derek know? Of course not, the police wouldn't call his boyfriend. The Sheriff quickly got dressed and jumped in his car, racing to the scene.

What he saw made his heart skip a beat: Stiles' Jeep was just a mess of metal between a tree and an old Cadillac. He saw firefighters using the Jaws of Life to get his son out. Rathbone approached him.

"Sheriff—"

"What the hell happened?"

Rathbone nodded towards a woman who was shaking and crying. "She said Stiles was turning onto the road and the other car came without headlights."

The Sheriff wanted to scream and cry, but he couldn't. He had to see Stiles. He raced forward just as the EMTs were putting Stiles on a stretcher.

"Sheriff, we need space."

"That's my son, dammit!" Stiles was bloody and looked broken. "Is he alive?"

"Yes, sir. But we can't have anyone in the ambulance with him." They left.

"Sheriff, are you okay?" That was a younger officer. The Sheriff shook his head, jumping in his car and following the ambulance.

* * *

It was only an hour between when Derek talked to Stiles and when the Sheriff called him. He felt like his insides had dropped out of him even before he answered.

"What happened?"

"There's been a wreck," the Sheriff said. He sounded terrified. "Stiles is…he's hurt."

"Sheriff, is he—"

"You just need to come to the hospital. We're on our way. I'm following the ambulance."

"On my way."

* * *

The Sheriff watched the doctors take Stiles out of the ambulance and rush him into the hospital. He pulled aside one of the EMTs from the ambulance.

"Did he say anything?"

"Yes, sir. He said 'Dad, Derek, I love you,' and then passed out."

The Sheriff nodded, trying not to lose it just yet. There was still a chance. He paced the waiting room, trying not to think about his son dying, but thinking about it all the same. He couldn't do it again, he couldn't lose someone, it was so hard when his wife died, he only stayed semi-sober for Stiles, and now what? Now who did he have? He'd seen the wreck, seen the Jeep trapped between a car and a tree, and knew there was no way Stiles could live through that, even if he had super healing.

"Sheriff," a doctor said, coming out of the OR.

"Is he alive?"

"I'm sorry. He…we tried, Sheriff. We tried everything. He didn't make it."

The Sheriff couldn't stop the tears anymore. He collapsed into a chair, hands over his face, sobbing. His son, his only son, his only family, was gone. It was bad enough with his wife, but he'd been able to say goodbye to her. He'd barely seen Stiles in 24 hours. He'd been with Derek.

Derek. Oh, God. The Sheriff had seen Derek when he thought Stiles had broken up with him; how would he deal with Stiles' death? Derek and the Sheriff had one thing in common: Stiles was all they had left. He had to be strong for Derek, strong for the werewolf who could deal with his whole family dying but wouldn't be able to handle this alone.

The Sheriff took a few deep breaths, stopped crying, and stood up to wait for Derek. He'd have to claim the body and deal with all that, but first he had to deal with Derek.

* * *

Derek ran from his car to the hospital entrance, barely able to ask where Stiles was before running off in that direction. When he reached the hallway, he could tell something was wrong. He couldn't smell Stiles anymore. Then he saw the Sheriff, whose face was red and splotchy.

"Dad, where is he?" Derek said, trying to run past him. "Where's Stiles?"

"Derek," the Sheriff said, blocking his path. "Derek, calm down."

"Is he alive?"

"No."

Derek let out a cry of anguish, tears falling out of his eyes as he collapsed in the Sheriff's arms. They stood in the hallway, both crying. Derek had lost his entire family in one night, and then his sister, and now this? What the fuck had he done to deserve all this?

"Derek, I have to go deal with the body," the Sheriff said after a few minutes. "Just stay here, okay? I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Can I see him?"

"Would it help?"

Derek thought for a second. "No. Of course not. I just…I don't want it to be true."

"I know, son. I have to go." He left. Derek waited a few minutes before leaving a message with a receptionist and leaving. He couldn't be there. He had to catch Stiles' scent again.

* * *

Derek called Isaac about twenty minutes after he left.

"Stiles…he's gone."

"Oh, God." Isaac felt a lump in his throat.

"I'm coming home now."

"Okay. Be careful."

Isaac wanted to comfort Derek when he got home, but he knew nothing would work. He knew the pain of losing someone close, but he didn't know the pain of losing a partner.

"Isaac, can I just…be alone?"

"You want me to leave the house?" Derek nodded. "Okay. I'll leave. Just…don't do anything stupid."

He grabbed Derek's car keys and drove to Scott's house. His mom would surely know, but he wasn't sure if Scott knew. He pulled into the driveway and knocked on Scott's door.

Scott answered a few seconds later. "What's up?"

"Your mom hasn't called? The Sheriff?"

"What the hell's going on?"

Isaac let a few tears fall. "Stiles is dead."

Scott breathed in sharply. "What happened?"

"Derek didn't tell me details, but he's…he's gone, Scott."

Scott bit his lip, swallowed, did all the things Isaac knew meant he was trying not to cry. Isaac stepped forward and hugged him tightly. They stood on the porch, crying, clutching at each other, until they heard Mrs. McCall's car pull up. She got out of the car, face tear-stained, and Scott went to hug her. Isaac left, not sure where to go.

* * *

The Sheriff returned to the waiting room after filling out all the paperwork and identifiying his son's mangled body. Derek was gone.

"Sheriff," a receptionist said, "the man you were with, he told me to tell you that he went home."

"Thank you."

"I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thank you." The Sheriff got in his car and left, feeling like shit for leaving his son there but knowing he couldn't take him away. He'd bury him soon.

When he pulled into his driveway, he noticed Derek's car there. Weird. Derek said he was going home. The Sheriff got out and noticed it wasn't Derek; it was Isaac Lahey.

"Sir, I don't know what to do," Isaac said. "I just…I feel empty and Derek wants to be alone and I just…I can't."

"I'd get arrested for this, but come in and have some booze."

The Sheriff led him inside and poured two glasses of rum.

"I'm really worried about Derek, sir."

"I know. Me too. Keep an eye on him, okay?"

"Absolutely."

* * *

Derek somehow managed to fall asleep, clutching Stiles' sweater to his chest. When he woke up, it was like nothing was wrong, and the terror of it hit him all over again. He felt waves of pain splash against him, choking him. He couldn't do this anymore.

He left, running without really thinking about it. He didn't realize what his plans were until he was at the Argent's door.

* * *

Chris heard someone approach the door. It was too early for anyone to be over unless something was wrong. There was a knock on the door. He opened it; it was Derek Hale.

"I need your help."

"Why the hell would I help you, Hale?" He reached for a gun from the hall table.

"Stiles is dead." Derek's voice broke on the last word, and he started crying.

Chris swallowed. Stiles was a good kid. Had been a good kid. "What do you need?"

Derek looked him in the eye. "I want you to kill me."

"Hale—"

"Chris, please."

Chris bit his lip. Derek hadn't called him by his first name since the Kate incident. "Hale, I can't kill an innocent man."

"Then give me the gun."

"Derek, I can't. Okay? I can't."

"You'd be doing me a favor." He looked so sad and sincere. "I don't have anyone left. My family's gone and now Stiles…"

"Derek—"

"Chris, please. Just…if you can't, tell me how I can. I can't do it anymore."

Chris sighed. "I can give you wolfsbane. You need to ingest it and let it do its work."

"How long?"

"A day, maybe less."

Derek nodded. Chris went down the hall to their wolfsbane stash and grabbed a handful. Before he gave it to Derek, he had to say something.

"I'm sorry, Derek. For what my sister did. If I had known what she was planning, I would've stopped her."

"I'm sorry for biting your wife, Chris."

They locked eyes for a second before shaking hands. Then Chris handed him the wolfsbane and closed the door.

* * *

Isaac woke up on a couch. He sniffed; it smelled like Stiles' house. The realization that Stiles was dead hit him again, making him gasp in pain. The Sheriff appeared.

"Is everything alright?"

"Yeah. No. What time is it?"

The Sheriff checked his watch. "Ten in the morning. I couldn't let you drive drunk."

"I should go. Derek's been alone all this time."

Isaac grabbed his shoes and left, driving as quickly as he could without breaking the law. As he approached the Hale house, he smelled something wrong. He ran into the house; Derek was laying on the couch, skin pale, coughing up black blood, clutching Stiles' sweater.

"DEREK!" Isaac shouted, running forward. "Derek, wake up!"

Derek groaned and turned to Isaac. His eyes were red.

"What the hell happened?"

"Argent gave me wolfsbane," Derek said, his voice rough. "I can't do it, Isaac."

"Derek, stay with me. How do I fix this?"

"You can't. I want this, Isaac." He tensed up, teeth clenching in pain.

"No, I'm sorry but no, you can't kill yourself. You just can't."

"Stiles was my only…link."

"Yeah, well you're mine. You're all I fucking have left, Derek."

"I know, Isaac, but I can't do it anymore." His eyes opened wide and suddenly the red drained from them.

Isaac was freaking out. He couldn't call 911, not with a wolf. He didn't know what to do. So he called Allison.

"What's up?" she said.

"Derek ingested wolfsbane, how do I fix him?"

"Isaac, calm down, you're talking too fast."

Isaac sighed and repeated what he said.

"Oh. I don't know. Hold on. DAD!" Isaac heard her dad come in. "Derek Hale ingested wolfsbane, how do we fix him?"

"I won't tell," Mr. Argent said.

"Dad, what—"

"I promised him I wouldn't fix him."

"_You_ did this?"

"He asked. And my sister killed his family."

Allison sighed. "Sorry, Isaac. I can't help."

"Thanks anyway." He hung up, looking back at Derek, who was panting on the couch. "Derek, please, let me help you, I need to help you. What the fuck am I going to do without you?"

Derek didn't respond; maybe he couldn't. Isaac couldn't sit here and watch Derek die, but he couldn't leave him.

* * *

Derek was in excruciating pain, worse than anything he'd ever felt. He was burning from the inside. Isaac was sitting across the room, crying into his hands. Derek wanted to feel sorry for him, but he couldn't, not when he was in so much pain.

Suddenly, he felt his heart slow down. It hurt so much that he could barely breathe.

Finally, his heart stopped.

* * *

Isaac looked at Derek as soon as he heard the heartbeat stop. He was no longer breathing. He was dead.

Isaac stood up and walked towards him, noticing the peaceful look on his face. The only time Derek had looked this happy was when he was with Stiles. Well, now he was with Stiles again. Isaac grabbed a blanket and covered him up, reaching for his phone and calling 911.

* * *

The Sheriff burst into the hospital after getting a call from Rathbone. Derek couldn't be dead. No way.

"Sheriff," Rathbone said. "Derek Hale, he's dead."

"Dammit. God damn you, Derek."

"It was suicide."

"I figured."

"Are you alright, Sheriff?"

The Sheriff sighed. "I will be. I want to see his body."

"We need you to identify him anyway."

He followed Rathbone to the morgue. Rathbone left him with the coroner.

"That's the body, Sheriff," the coroner said, pointing to what was obviously Derek's body.

The Sheriff stepped forward, a little freaked out by seeing Derek so pale and weak. "Yeah, this is Derek Hale. I'd recognize this face anywhere." He reached out to touch Derek's cheek. "So cold. Derek, wherever you are, I hope you're taking care of him. You better be."

"Sheriff, he can't—"

"I know! I'm just…he was almost my son-in-law. He was going to propose to my son today."

"I'm sorry, sir."

"Can I be alone?" The coroner nodded and left. "Derek…you were like a son to me. I know why you did this, and I understand. I…I forgive you. And I love you."

The Sheriff stroked his hair and left, wiping his face. He ran into Isaac in the waiting room.

"Sheriff, I need to ask you something."

"Fire away, Lahey."

Isaac wrung his hands. "Can I live with you? Derek's house was my home and now—"

"Yeah. Yes. Come on, kid. I've got two funerals to plan."


End file.
